Dear Veronica
by cosmogirl7481
Summary: 1994 was the year that The Cranberries lingered on our radios and Jordan Catalano was still the hottest boy we could imagine. But it was also the year that Bella Swan decided to keep a diary. A record of her actions. A place to share her thoughts.
1. Chapter 1

October 23, 1994

Dear Diary,

You should know that I don't consider you a diary at all. Diaries are for little girls with pink bedrooms and fluffy slippers and moms who tuck them into soft beds at night even if the little girl complains that she's too old to be tucked in. I don't have any of that. I barely even have a bedroom. And I certainly don't have a bedroom of my own.

I share a room with my twin brother, Emmett. Which, if I'm being honest, is kind of awful. I mean, he's seventeen. And seventeen year old boys have needs. Well, if I'm gonna be **REALLY** honest, seventeen year olds (in general) have needs. Myself included. I've just learned to deal with my needs in the shower like a normal person. Well, a normal person who's seventeen and still a virgin. He deals with his needs whenever they strike. But whatever. I've only walked in on him once or seventeen times. We tend to pretend it never happened. We tend to pretend a lot of things.

Anyway, I've gotten off track. I should probably tell you now that my getting off track happens a lot. I don't know why I can't focus. I think it's because I have a lot on my plate. I go to school every day. I work part time five days a week. At a diner. It's awful. And I basically act as a housekeeper here because my dad, Charlie, is always working and Emmett couldn't wash a load of clothes if the washing machine promised to suck his dick while the dryer fondled his balls.

To be honest (because I promise to always tell you the truth) I don't know if guys like to have their balls fondled. I mean, it seems like something they might enjoy. However, I do know they like their dicks sucked. I learned that when I was fifteen and Mike Newton offered to "let me" suck his in the gym after freshman PE. I kicked him in the balls instead. So, my takeaway (Mr. Banner says that we should always have a takeaway from lessons we learn in life) is that kicking balls = bad. And fondling balls probably = good.

Shit. I got off track again. What I wanted to tell you in the beginning is that from now on, I won't be calling you Diary. Seeing as how I'm lacking all the pink and the mom and stuff. You are NOT a diary. You are a journal. A journal doesn't seem so girlie. Nothing about me is girlie. Except my vagina. And as we discussed, I only address my vagina when I'm in the shower. Anyway, I have decided to call you Veronica. As for why the name Veronica, I can't really tell you. I don't know. It seems like a cool name, and if this sharing secrets with you thing is gonna work, I need to imagine that you're a cool chick. So, Veronica it is.

So, I guess that's it. At least for now. I need to get to sleep before Emmett gets home from work at Newton's Outfitters. And yes, Veronica, I've often thought about telling him what Mike Newton offered to "let me" do two years ago, but I know he would just beat the shit out of him. And Emmett needs his job. We both do.

Goodnight,

Bella Swan

PS: There is one girlie thing about me. Maybe I'll tell you about it tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

"Bella, are you awake?"

If I lay here with my eyes closed, I'm pretty sure he'll leave me alone.

"Bella," he whisper-hisses.

I moan and roll over. I pretend to snore, but I end up choking. Like, I'm seriously coughing my head off. I feel like I can't breathe – like I might die at any moment. And Emmett won't know how to help me.

Oh, god. I'm going to die. I'm going to die and I'm still a virgin. And damn it. If I don't die, I'm gonna hear all the songs from Grease 2 in my head all night long. But before I can sing the lyrics to Cool Rider in my mind, Emmett pounds me on the back.

"I know you're awake."

"Really, Emmett?" I say, rolling over. "What gave it away? The fact that I almost died? What do you want?"

"How do you know Edward Cullen?"

I freeze. My entire body stills, and I'm thankful that Emmett's not still touching me. Because he would definitely feel how every muscle in my body has gone completely rigid.

I can do this.

I can just be calm and do this.

I am smarter than my brother.

I can tell a convincing lie.

Especially since the room is dark and he can't see my traitor face.

"I don't," I say a little too slowly for my liking.

"You don't know him?"

"No."

The lying gets easier the more you do it, I notice.

"Well how the fuck does he know you?"

See? This is when being popular would help me. If I was popular, I could just go on and on about some bullshit that everyone knows me. But I'm not popular. I'm not really anything at all. I'm more than happy to blend in on the side. Popular people have friends. And friends ask all kinds of questions. And clearly, I suck at giving answers.

"I don't know how he knows me, Emmett," I hiss. "Maybe he comes into the diner."

This is not a complete lie, so I'm okay.

Emmett regards me. I see him staring at me in the dark.

"How…" I start, trying to think quickly. I wasn't fully asleep, but I was almost there, and I'm not thinking as clearly as I would like to be. I mean, I know this is Emmett and a squirrel could probably outwit him, but right now I'm so nervous, I don't know if I could outwit a squirrel. "How do you know he knows me?" I hear the words as I say them. Each one sounds slower than the one before.

"Because he was in the store tonight and he asked about you."

I'm torn between wanting to grin like an idiot and wanting to bury my face in the pillow.

I choose neither option.

In fact, I choose the most stupid option possible.

"What did he say?"

"He asked if you were my sister."

"And that means he knows me?"

The lies are coming so easy, I feel as if I might be able to live a life of crime.

"Well, it sure as fuck means he knows of you," he says. But then he laughs and slaps me on the back. "But you're right, Hell's Bells."

"Don't call me that," I say through gritted teeth. "You know I hate that. And what am  
I right about?"

"He probably just knows you from the diner."

I hold in my sigh of relief until he walks over to his bed. And once he settles in, I feel free to breathe normally. Well, mostly normally. My heart is still pounding like crazy. Why the fuck was he asking Emmett about me?

I'm pretty sure I'm not getting any sleep now, but I try. Tomorrow is a long day. I roll over in my twin bed and face the wall when I hear Emmett whisper, "Stay away from him, Bells. He's bad news."

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

Marvar pre-read, but didn't officially beta. She did point out glaring mistakes. But if you found any, all of them are mine.

ILY guys!


	3. Chapter 3

October 24, 1994

Dear Veronica,

Have you ever known someone who sees you? I mean, really **SEES** you? When no one else has ever really seen you at all? Even the people who are supposed to love you and know all about you but they don't? Not really. Not about the things that are real. The things that are important.

So, this is the one girlie thing I was telling you about.

_Edward_

_Edward Cullen_

Only he's not girlie. At all. He's a boy. Well, a man. Well, I don't really know what to call him. See, he's older than me. And while he's not old enough to say, I don't know, go into a bar and order a drink, he is old enough to buy a pack of cigarettes. Well, he's more than old enough for that. And he does. Buy the cigarettes, I mean. He smokes. And I know it's bad for him, but can I tell you a secret? I kinda love it when he smokes. I mean, I really, really love it.

It's sexy.

And when the smoke mixes with the smell of his Drakkar Noir, it makes me want to do things. Like kiss him. And lick him. And maybe fondle his balls. Do you see why I had to get a journal? There is no one else that I could say that to! And if I'm still be honest (which I totally still plan to be) I don't really know what it means that I want to fondle his balls. Don't get me wrong. I'm not stupid. I know about sex. And not because of the "talk" I had with Charlie when I was thirteen. And not because I've walked in on Emmett handling things. I just know because I'm seventeen and feel things. And he makes me feel so many things. You know. Like in my panties. Which are totally not even sexy panties from Victoria's Secret. We don't even have one of those here. They're just the basic white cotton kind that come in value packs with fruit on them.

Oh my god. Edward can never ever see my panties.

Anyway, so yeah…the smoking. I know it's kind of gross, and he'll probably die of lung cancer, but I just can't help how sexy I think it is when he does it. Can I?

Oh, and the girlie thing is me. He makes me feel like a girl. Not only that, he makes me feel like a pretty girl. Like the kind of girl that wants to put on a dress instead of jeans and my flannel shirt. Although, Edward loves flannel. He wears it all the time. Sometimes I think about him maybe offering to give me one of his shirts. Like, maybe it could be raining outside and I'd need something to cover up with. And then I could have it here. You know, in my room. And maybe I could sleep in it and smell smoke and Drakkar Noir and just Edward all night long. I'll bet I would have the best dreams.

Here's the thing, Veronica. He talks to me. Like, he talked to me. When I was invisible and just serving dinner and coffee and tea to everybody in Forks, he saw me. And he asked me my name. And he never once looked at my boobs or said anything vile like Mike Newton. He asked me how I was. He told me I looked tired. And you know what? I **WAS** tired. I was so tired. School and work and taking care of Charlie and Emmett, well, it all takes a toll. But no one ever noticed before him. And he…

Gotta go.

Charlie just got home.

Love,

Bella

PS: I think Emmett knows.

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

All the mistakes belong to me. All the love I have belongs to Marvar.

Thank you for the love. I adore you guys so flipping much.


	4. Chapter 4

"Order up, Bella."

Waylon offers me a smile as I take the plate. I try to smile back, but I'm pretty sure I only succeed in looking creepy. And that's okay. I'm pretty sure that Waylon is okay with creepy. I mean, he does drive a burgundy kidnapper van. Well, it's almost all burgundy. There is the airbrushed picture of the entire family from Family Ties on the side. And no matter how many times I look at it, Michael J Fox's eyes look crossed.

Yep.

Waylon is what we consider an upstanding proprietor here in Forks.

I begin washing down empty tables after I deliver the order. The job is easier if I stay busy. Well, not easier, really. But it sure does help the time pass. And honestly, it helps me not obsess on the fact that Edward asked Emmett about me. I mean, god! What the fuck was he thinking?

I hear the bell over the door. I want to ignore it, but I can't since I'm the one that will have to seat them and take their order. Tucking the dishrag in my apron, I look over. And there he is – all tall and lean with shaggy, copper hair that falls just over his eyes. Which, by the way, meet mine for just a second before he looks down.

I don't know what to do with the way I feel when he looks at me. It's like everything slows down – almost like I'm standing neck-deep in a pool of warm molasses. But at the same time, my heart pounds so hard I can barely stand it. It's almost painful. I've never, ever felt anything like this before.

I make my way over.

Slowly.

Quickly.

I don't know – like maybe I'm running in slow motion.

"Hi," I say.

"Hey," is his only reply.

My heart falls a little because he barely even looks at me. And also because he only said, "Hey." I tell myself that I only said, "Hi." And then I promptly tell myself to shut the fuck up.

"Table or counter?"

"Table."

"Okay."

I lead him to the far back corner. It's where he usually sits. He slides in the booth, but he's still not looking at me. I overlook the fact that just before coming to work today, I disclosed to Veronica that he sees me. But how can he see me when he's not even looking?

Ugh.

Boys are so freaking stupid.

No, girls are. Girls are definitely, definitely the stupid ones.

"What would you like to drink?"

"Coke."

"Okay," I tell him, turning on my heel and walking away.

I get his Coke. I try to ignore the part of my brain that is trying to convince me to maybe, possibly lick the rim of his glass. I mean, if I did it, and he drank out of it, it would almost be like our tongues were touching each other in some convoluted, quite-possibly-criminal way. But thankfully, I realize that while it's still somewhat romantic in my head, it's probably really gross.

I walk back over and offer him his clean glass, and he looks at me. He totally looks right at me with big, glassy, green eyes that are so deep I'm almost certain I could dive in and drown in them.

"You must be pretty mad at me," he whispers.

My immediate thought is _how could I possibly ever be mad at you?_

I don't say that.

Thank god.

Because I remember that I am actually mad at him. Well, equal parts mad and confused and nervous and happy.

Instead, I go with, "Why would you ask Emmett about me?"

"Because I didn't know who he was."

"So."

"So, I didn't know who he was, and he was talking about you."

Again, I go with, "So."

He shakes his head. I think he's frustrated. He looks all broody and angsty, which I must admit is really quite…arousing? But he _always_ looks broody and angsty. He lives in the Pacific Northwest. Close to Seattle. I'm surprised he doesn't have a garage band where they get together in their flannel shirts and Doc Martins and play songs about…well, they would probably play songs about their flannel shirts and Doc Martins.

"Never mind."

"What?" I ask, indignation coursing through me. "You get to just _ask_ my brother about me and I can't even ask you why?"

"No, that's not what I mean."

"What do you mean? And why were you even at Newton's anyway?"

It should be noted that we are having this whole conversation in whispers. I don't really know why because it's not like there's anyone close by.

"It's just…" he sighs. I find it particularly hard to focus when he sighs. I really hope he doesn't know that. "I was there buying shoes, okay? Work boots."

I don't ask him if he got a new job. People are wearing work boots now. For like fashion or whatever. I also don't tell him that I think this fad is mostly stupid.

"Okay."

"Anyway, I was standing there and there were these two guys and they were talking about you. I mean, I heard one of them say your name. And I…well, I didn't like it. So, I asked them how they knew you. And the one guy – the big one – he told me he was your brother."

His explanation is valid. I mean, I completely understand it. But my mind can't make it past the other thing he said.

"Why didn't you like it?"

"I don't know," he mumbles.

My heart falls a little even though I don't really know what I hoped he would say. Well, that's not true. I totally know what I hoped he would say. And he didn't.

"Well, I think Emmett knows about you now. Or well, I think he has a feeling."

"So, what? Now you're gonna just stop talking to me?"

The idea of that makes me die a little.

"Why does he think you're bad news?"

"Because I am."

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than Waylon loves Family Ties. That is all.

And ILY all of you, too!


	5. Chapter 5

October 26, 1994

Dear Veronica,

I am beginning to realize that everyone with a penis is really fucking stupid. All of them. And to think there was a time when I actually just thought it was only Emmett and Charlie. And of course, Mike Newton.

Edward left the diner after he told me that he actually was bad news. That's all. He just left. He didn't even drink any of the Coke I didn't lick. So, I had to finish my shift all confused and pissed off. And then, after all of that, I had to come home and make dinner for the other two men in my life who didn't seem to care that I'd just spent all afternoon serving food to everyone else in Forks.

Assholes.

All of them are assholes.

Well, Charlie isn't really an asshole. He's mostly just clueless. He's mostly just trying to raise two kids by himself because apparently my mother was the town whore. It's sad really. For him. For all of us. Well, it's sad and embarrassing. Because Forks is a small town. And people talk. And they especially talk about something as scandalous as a mother and wife having an affair with her son's football coach. I mean, who does that?

That was the year I learned to become invisible. It was just easier. I was seven. I didn't even know what an affair was. Well, not really. I mean, I mostly just assumed that it was something that made my mom move away and made my dad sad. It was also the year that I learned how to make grilled cheese sandwiches because Emmett and I needed something to eat besides junk food.

So, anyway, Charlie does the best that he can with us. He doesn't let me date, though. I think it's because he's afraid that I'll turn into my mom. You know, slutting it up all over town. And I can't even get mad (well, not that mad) because he's nothing if not fair. He doesn't let Emmett date either. He says we have plenty of time to date after college. Which is why we both work. We have to save money for school since it would be nearly impossible for Charlie to pay for either of us to go. He barely makes enough money to afford our tiny apartment and all the food Emmett needs to survive.

Sometimes I hear other girls talking about things at school. Like phone calls and boyfriends and football games. And it all seems so normal, you know? And maybe it is, but it's not for us. I swear, it's almost like Charlie is some crazy, religious freak who wants us to save ourselves for marriage or something. But he's not. Pretty sure after my mom screwed him over, he stopped believing in god. And he definitely doesn't believe in marriage. He mostly believes in hard work and baseball. I watch with him sometimes. It's really boring, but he seems to like it.

So, anyway, I guess that's why I'm so confused about Edward. I know I'm not allowed to "date" him. I mean, he's nineteen for god's sake. Although, I guess I couldn't even date him if he was seventeen and still in school. Which he's not. But he is the first guy I ever wanted to date. He's the first guy I ever wanted to even really get to know. Because, let's be serious. The only men I really know are Charlie and Emmett. And while I love them both more than anything in the world, they're not exactly the greatest examples. But Edward seemed different. Edward seemed like he really kinda maybe got me. And no one ever gets me.

Can I tell you a secret?

I mean, I know I can of course.

I was prepared to sneak around with him if I had to. I had all these secret thoughts about possibly waiting for Emmett to go to sleep on a night that Charlie was working. And then I could creep outside. You know, being all quiet and crafty like a spy or a ninja. And here's the best part of my dream. When I finally got outside, Edward would be there waiting for me. Just me. You know, because maybe I was worth the sneaking around and keeping secrets.

And maybe he would be okay with just talking or holding hands or possibly kissing on the lips because even though I feel things, I don't know if I'm ready for anything as big as sex.

But he thinks he's bad news. Which is totally ironic because I would need someone who was sort of bad news to sneak around with.

But I guess those are just stupid dreams, huh?

Goodnight,

Bella

PS: I've totally only snuck out once in my life. It was with Emmett. We were 11 and we snuck out to go to the movies to see Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Until I met Edward, it was the most exciting thing I'd ever done.

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than I loved sneaking out when I was seventeen.

And ILY guys, too!


	6. Chapter 6

"Bells," Emmett whispers in the darkness.

And then nothing.

I wait, not because I'm sleeping or even remotely close to getting there. I wait because I'm not sure I have the patience or the energy to talk to someone with a penis.

"Bells, are you awake?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "What do you want, Em?"

I roll over facing his bed on the other side of the room.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

The room is dark, but I can still see him from the light that's shining through the window with the broken shades.

"I don't know. You just seem quiet is all."

"I'm always quiet."

"Not with me. You're never quiet with me."

This is true. As much as I like to make fun of my older (by only 4 and a half minutes) brother, he's actually quite perceptive when it comes to me. Maybe it's a twin thing. Although, we've never really been ones to finish each other's sentences or anything like that.

"I'm just tired."

It's definitely the truth. I'm not lying at all.

"Me too," he says. "But seriously. Is there something going on with you? Is this about what I asked you the other night?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know…about Edward Cullen."

"I told you, Emmett," I snap a little louder than I intended to, "I don't know Edward Cullen."

It's not even really a lie. I feel like I really don't know him right now. He hasn't been back in the diner since the day he walked out.

"I know."

"Then can you drop it?"

"It's just…you know you can tell me things, right?"

This piques my interest.

"What kind of things?"

"Anything. I live here too, you know? I know what it's like."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know…the rules and stuff. I get it if you want to…date." He whispers the word 'date' so lowly, I almost can't make it out.

"Why? Do you want to date?" I ask, suddenly more interested in this conversation than ever.

"Maybe."

"Who?"

"None of your business, Nosy."

"Then why are you asking me?"

"It's just…nothing. Forget it. No reason."

He rolls away from me and faces the wall. We lay like this for what seems like forever. And I feel more frustrated than I was before he started this. I roll back over, too. I hug my pillow tight against my chest and close my eyes.

I'm almost asleep when I hear him whisper, "It's just that I think we should be able to do whatever we want. See whoever we want. We're practically adults anyway. Even if we aren't eighteen yet."

"I know," I whisper back.

"He's not gonna change his mind, you know? She really fucked him up."

"I know. Sometimes, I hate her."

"Yeah, me too."

"Do you ever miss her?"

He rolls back over. I don't see him, but I can hear him.

"I haven't missed her since the first time you made me grilled cheese."

I feel my throat tighten and hot tears fill my eyes. I don't know what to say to that, so I remain silent. He seems to understand and doesn't say anything else for a long time.

But then he does.

"Any guy would be lucky to have you. Including Edward Cullen."

I want to say something, but I seriously can't breathe or even think. I mean, did he just say what I think he said? And did it mean what I possibly think it might possibly mean?

Oh, my god.

This is a brand new development I don't quite know how to deal with.

"Thanks, Em."

"And I'm always on your side, Hell's Bells. Even if you think I'm not."

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than grilled cheese.

And seriously, ILY guys like whoa.


	7. Chapter 7

October 28, 1994

Dear Veronica,

I'm so angry I could…

Well, I don't know what I could do since I'm NOT allowed to do anything. Which is total bullshit. Because I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one around here who's been making adult decisions since 1984. And also, if you really want to know, Charlie can kiss my ass.

Yes, that's it.

I am so angry that I could tell Charlie to kiss my ass!

I mean, I probably won't because arguing gives me a headache. But I totally could.

Please don't think I'm a bad daughter. I promise I'm not. It's just that I tried to have a grown up conversation with him about the possibility of me dating. And he just dug his heels in the ground, spewing crap about how I know the rules and once I'm living on my own, I can do whatever I want.

I guess I should go back. I mean, it's not like I would have even brought the whole dating thing up without a reason. First of all, Edward didn't come in the diner forever. Well, actually it was only four days but it felt like forever. Anyway, when he did come in, I made Sue Clearwater wait on him because honestly, I don't think I would have been above doing something bad to his drink. And I don't mean licking the rim of the glass. So there I was, avoiding him. You know, while I covertly watched him from across the room. I thought I saw him catch me once, but I made sure to hide my face behind the menu I was holding. When I finally looked back over, he was looking down. Crisis avoided. Although I suppose it wouldn't have been a crisis. Just embarrassing.

Anyway, I felt bad. You know, because I really do like him and whenever I would look over at him, he was just sitting there. Not even drinking his Coke. Plus, he didn't even order anything to drink. Which led me to believe that he was actually there to see me. Like maybe he couldn't stay away or something. But I don't know if he would do anything that romantic. I mean. I didn't think so. But still, it meant something that he was there, right? Especially since he wasn't really eating or drinking anything.

I know you're agreeing with me.

So, I walked over to his table when I got my break. And oh, my god, Veronica! It was so awkward. I'm pretty sure I've never experienced anything that awkward in my life. And I share a room with Emmett. (And do his laundry.) We were both quiet for a while. Really, it seemed like forever. But he told me hello and then I asked him if it was alright if I sat down. And he told me yes. And then, you will never believe what happened. He smiled at me. Just me. And even though the smile was a little sad and he didn't say anything, I was sure that those few seconds were the absolute very best of my life. Well, except for the times when Edward asked how I was and didn't look at my boobs and stuff.

He looked like he wanted to say something really deep and important. I'd like to think it was how much he'd missed me and how he couldn't stop thinking about me either. But he didn't. He just reached across the table and touched my hand. Not even my hand, really. Just my fingers. And only for a few seconds. But he pulled away and then he looked at me again.

That's all.

He just looked at me with his big, soft, green eyes.

And then he stood up and walked away.

Which was equal parts confusing and irritating.

I decided then and there that I had to talk to Charlie. I had to tell him that it was unfair of him to not let us date. Because (in my head) I imagined that I could tell Edward that we could date. You know, if he was ever able to ask me out of whatever. Or maybe even tell me (with words) that he likes me in that way.

But it doesn't matter.

Because Charlie is an asshole.

**ASSHOLE!**

I should probably get ready for bed now. Thanks for listening.

Love,

Bella

PS: I realize that in my last entry I told you that Charlie **WASN'T** an asshole. I would like to retract that statement.

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than finger touches.

And ILY all too!


	8. Chapter 8

I'm getting ready to head to the library for my last class of the day. Technically, it's not a class. It's a study period. I throw my back pack over my shoulder, and that's when I hear it.

"Pssst."

Normally, I wouldn't even look around. No one but Emmett ever really talks to me here. But I have this feeling that covers my entire body. This…I don't even know. Just this _feeling_ that the sound is for me.

I look over my shoulder, but I don't see anyone or anything out of the ordinary.

Great.

Now I'm hearing things.

"Pssst."

There it is again.

And then, "Bella. Over here."

And oh, my god. I know that voice. That voice (even though it's a cross between a whisper and a hiss right now) is the same voice that fills my dreams every single night.

Fuck.

Or something much more like a high-pitched scream that I would be too mortified to make right now.

I look around again, and there, just under the stairwell by the gym is Edward too-perfect-to-be-real Cullen. No, really. He's just standing there holding a cigarette with damp hair that looks almost brown instead of copper. And he's wearing the flannel shirt that I love – the blue and white one that looks so worn and soft that I constantly have to fight the urge to just reach out and rub it all over.

"Come here," he says.

I fight the urge to look behind me because there's a very real part of me that wonders why he would ever, ever pay attention to me.

"Come on," he says.

I walk toward him. Because, really…what else am I gonna do? And when I finally reach him, he pulls me by the hand and tugs me over to where we are pretty much hidden from anyone who might be watching.

"I thought for a second you weren't gonna come," he says.

"What are you…I mean, how did you…" I stammer and blush and try with everything I have inside me to process the fact that he's here. And his hand is currently still holding mine. "What are you doing here?" I finally manage.

"I don't know," he hedges. And for a moment, I think he seems as nervous as I feel. Well, as nervous as the most beautiful boy in the world (who happens to be smoking a cigarette like he's James-Freaking-Dean) can seem. "I just…I just wanted to see you. Why? Are you mad?"

He looks at me like there's an actual possibility that I could ever be mad about this. I mean, how the fuck could I ever be mad about this?

"No," I answer quickly, and a little too excited. "I just…I'm just _surprised_."

He steps closer, and I can smell the smoke and the Drakkar and holy lord, spearmint gum.

"Good surprise?"

"Yeah."

"Are you supposed to be in class right now?"

I nod.

"I shouldn't be here," he whispers.

"I shouldn't be here either," I whisper back. And then I look directly at him and say, "Maybe I'm bad news, too."

He leans in even closer, and I'm trying really hard not to grab his shirt and lick his neck. I'm also trying to remember why I shouldn't want to do those things. But right now I couldn't give a fuck about anything other than the fact that he's here and he's close. And seriously, he's still holding my hand.

"You always smell good, Bella," he tells me, pushing my hair away from my neck. And I swear to god, if he wanted to, I would let him give me a hickey right now – right here in broad daylight where anyone could see. "Like strawberries."

"It's cheap shampoo."

"It's sweet. Like you."

"You think I'm sweet?"

"I think…" he trails off, looking down at me with his lethal green eyes. He must know what they do to me.

"What do you think?"

"I think I want you to go out with me."

And in one sentence he gives me everything I feel like I've ever wanted, but at the same time my heart sinks so low it might as well be in the puddle of water beneath our feet.

"I'm not allowed to date."

I don't look up at him.

I'm too embarrassed.

Too humiliated to live.

But then I feel his mouth at my ear, his breath on my neck, and his hand holding mine tighter.

And then he whispers, "You're not allowed to skip class either, but you're still here."

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	9. Chapter 9

October 29, 1994

Dear Veronica,

I'm almost fairly certain that I might die. Like, seriously. My heart is probably going to explode in my chest. Edward came to my school. To see me. To talk to me. And maybe to hold my hand and possibly smell my hair. Which (because I'm totally still being honest) might be the very best part. Because he likes the way I smell. Well, I guess he likes the crappy V05 shampoo that smells like strawberries. I don't even know what to do with that. I guess it's not that weird because I really, really like the way he smells, too.

Actually, the best part is that he asked me out. He said it. He used those words. And I'm surprised I didn't die right then. Well, I almost did from mortification. I had to tell him that I wasn't allowed to date. But I think he'd already figured that out on his own. I don't know for sure. But then he basically implied that there were other ways for us to spend time together. And he also implied that he thought I would be more than willing to go along with those ways.

Which I **TOTALLY** am.

And that's where this all gets a bit tricky. Because I'm really going to do it. Tonight. Charlie is working the night shift and as soon as Emmett is asleep, I'm sneaking out of the apartment. Edward said he would meet me at the end of the road. He didn't want to do that at first. At first, he wanted to meet me at the bottom of the stairs because he said that he didn't like the idea of me walking alone that late at night. But he finally agreed because I told him that if anyone saw us together, they might tell my dad. Although, when I think about it, the odds that someone would be watching so late at night probably aren't very high. Or low. I forget which one is better.

So, I'm making turkey burgers for dinner. I read somewhere that turkey has something in it called Tryptophan. It's supposed to make you sleepy. I hope Emmett is really hungry and maybe eats like three. He could totally have mine because I'm too nervous to eat anyway. Also, I really hope this doesn't make me a bad person. You know, like I'm drugging him or something. Because it's not like I've never made turkey burgers before. And I really, really need Emmett to go to sleep as quickly as possible. I'll just have to make sure I brew Charlie a pot of coffee before he goes to work. He'll need the caffeine to counteract the turkey.

This whole life of crime thing is serious business. I never realized just how much planning goes into breaking the rules. And while I don't really want to lie to Emmett about anything (especially after what he told me a few nights ago) I don't think I can tell him about any of this. At least, not right now.

I don't even know what we're doing. I wouldn't care if he only wanted to walk around and maybe, hopefully hold my hand. I also wouldn't mind getting to know him a little better. I just know that he has to be as beautiful on the inside as he is on the outside. But then I think that doesn't really seem fair at all. Because how could so much beauty be contained in one person?

Also, I have no idea what I'm wearing. I never really think about things like that. I usually just throw on a pair of jeans and whatever shirt I have clean and hanging in the closet. Edward doesn't seem to really think much about what he wears. But that's probably because everything he wears is perfect.

I know one thing for sure. I'll definitely be washing my hair before I "go to bed" tonight.

Love,

Bella

PS: I hope I don't get caught.

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	10. Chapter 10

I've never really thought about how loud the floors are in this apartment. But now that that I'm creeping over them on my tip-toes, I realize just how freaking noisy they are. Seriously. It's ridiculous. I look over at the clock on the kitchen wall. It's eleven-fifteen. And Edward said he would be waiting at eleven. I hope he doesn't think I'm not coming.

It took Emmett forever to get to sleep. He seemed like something was on his mind, and maybe he wanted to talk. But I couldn't get into a whole deep conversation with him. So I lied and told him I was really exhausted and pretended to go to sleep. Which was really difficult seeing as how I could barely breathe. I was proud of myself, though. I didn't move an inch until he was snoring.

I crack open the door, which is just as loud as the fucking floors. I mean, really, how have I never noticed this before? I take one last look inside. Once I step out, it's all over. I'm officially doing this. I'm officially the kind of person who lies and sneaks around. And you know what? I don't care. I can't find it inside me to care one little bit. Because I'm doing this to see the most amazing boy I've ever known. I'm doing this because it's not fair that I _can't_ do this like a regular girl at a regular time. You know, where Edward would come to my house and meet my dad before he picked me up and took me out to the movies or out to dinner.

And it's that thought that gives me the courage to step outside. I basically run down the stairs. I tell myself that I'm running, not because Edward is waiting, but because for the first time ever I feel this surge of freedom. This almost electric jolt of what it feels like to do whatever I want. I slow when I see his figure at the end of the street – all tall and lean and perfect as he leans against the railing. But then he turns to me, and even though I can't make out his face, I know he's looking at me. He's been waiting for me.

And that is all the encouragement I need to push forward.

"Hi," he whispers, pushing off the railing.

"Hey."

I don't really know what to do with myself. My hands in particular. Part of me wants to reach out and touch him – to grab his hands in mine and tell him just how happy I am to be here. And also, I want to maybe tell him how excited and nervous I am. And just how overwhelming all of this really is to me. But a part of me is still scared that this isn't as big or as important to him, so I keep my mouth shut and wait for him to lead me.

"You made it out." It's not like a question, but more like he's impressed. Astonished maybe.

"It wasn't that hard," I totally lie. And then I feel bad for lying because while I've been lying to Charlie and Emmett, I've only been lying to them because I have to. I don't really have to lie to Edward. Not only that, I realize I don't want to. "Actually, I was a nervous wreck."

"About this?" he asks. "About…about seeing me?"

"No," I tell him quickly. "Not about you. I meant about sneaking out of the house. I was afraid I would get caught."

"Will you get in a lot of trouble if you get caught?"

"Maybe," I tell him. "I don't really know. I've never really been in trouble before."

"That doesn't surprise me," he laughs.

"It doesn't?"

I'm more than a little offended. Have I not just proven what a masterful criminal mind I have?

"No."

"It should. The only things you really know about me are that I skip class and sneak out of the house at night."

He laughs. And I'm pretty sure it's the first time I've ever seen him laugh. The sound, it's sort of beautiful – almost as beautiful as him. And then he reaches out to me and takes my hand. His hand is cold from standing outside in the night air. But I don't care because it was him – he reached for me.

"That's not all I know about you."

"What else do you know about me?"

"Come on and I'll tell you."

He smiles down at me, and I know I would follow him anywhere.

"Where are we going?"

"My car is parked right over there."

This stills me. Just stops me dead in my tracks.

"_You have a car_?"

And there he goes with the beautiful laugh again. It's disarming to see him this way. I don't quite know what to make of it. He looks almost…happy.

"Yes, now come on. It's cold out here."

And then the three most wonderful seconds in the history of the world take place. Almost like they're nothing, like they hold no significance at all. He threads his fingers through mine. He's holding my hand. And not just holding it like he did under the stairwell behind the gym. He's holding my hand like a boyfriend would hold my hand. And in those three seconds, I'm pretty sure I give my heart to Edward Cullen forever.

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	11. Chapter 11

So, Edward Cullen doesn't just have a car. Edward Cullen drives a Volvo. And not just any Volvo. A 1972 Volvo Saloon. He's talking about it in depth. And I keep hearing words like "engine" and "curves" and "beauty." It's the most I've ever heard him talk about anything. And it's a little disconcerting, if I'm being honest. It's almost like he's talking about a girl.

We're sitting inside the car in total silence except for the sound of the heater that he's turned on. And while I definitely like the warmth, I miss the fact that when we were outside, he was holding my hand.

"So," he says, dragging out the word like he hopes that it will fill the almost uncomfortable silence that has settled between us.

"So," I repeat.

And oh, god, this is lame. This is tense and lame and also a little scary. Not scary in a bad way – like I'm afraid he might try to fondle me in the dark…in the front seat of his Volvo Saloon. But scary in the way that I'm afraid he might not. He turns on the radio. The volume is really low, but I can hear _Fade Into You_ by Mazzy Star. And I wonder if he can possibly know just how much I love this song. Like, I wonder if he planned to play it because he thought I might like it. But then I think that it's probably just a coincidence because there's no possible way he could have put so much thought into a song.

"Are you warm?" he asks.

"Yeah." I nod my head and look over at him, willing him with every fiber of my being to reach across the gear shift and take my hand in his again. "It's nice. This is…nice. Thank you."

"So, umm…yeah," he says, and I hang on his words like they're Nirvana lyrics and he's Kurt Cobain. "Is there umm… Well, what would you like to do?"

I giggle because I can't help it.

"It's almost midnight. In Forks. There's not really anything to do."

"Oh," he says, looking down at his lap. "I guess you're right."

"What would _you_ like to do?"

"I don't know," he says shifting in his seat and turning around to face me. "Maybe we could…" he pauses, and a million things that we could do run through my head. Like maybe he could hold my hand again or whisper in my ear. Or maybe we could throw ourselves across the car and we could kiss with tongues for hours. "I don't know. Maybe we could just talk."

Or that.

"Okay."

I wait for him because as much as I want to talk to him, I'm not really sure what to talk about. I wish I'd had the foresight to make a list of appropriate topics of conversations, so I wouldn't seem boring. And also so there wouldn't be this silence between us that's making me feel so self-conscious.

"Three things," he says, breaking the silence. "What's your favorite color, movie and…I don't know, book?"

"Really? That's what you want to know?"

"Yeah," he says, sliding his hand down to his knee. It's not where I want it, but at least it's closer, so I covertly move my hand to my knee. Just in case placing it closer to his will make him want to hold it again. "We have to start somewhere."

"Okay. Well, I guess my favorite color is blue. I love it. I don't know why. I think that maybe it has something to do with the fact that we don't see a lot of blue here. You know? The sky is always grey and stuff like that. Plus, when I was a little girl. My dad, Charlie, bought Emmett and me matching pajamas and robes for Christmas one year. It was the year after… Well, I was eight. Anyway, Charlie couldn't exactly give Emmett a pink robe, so it was blue for both of us. And I loved that robe. I wore it every single night and on Saturday mornings when we watched cartoons. And it always made me feel like…I don't know."

"What?" he asks. "What did it make you feel like?"

"Well," I tell him, biting down on my bottom lip and wondering if I can say it. Really, more like wondering if I know how to put it in words. "It was soft and fluffy, you know? And even though it was blue, I knew that Charlie was trying to – I don't know – maybe give me something girlie in his own way. And that made me feel like we were gonna be okay."

He's looking at me, and I can't read his expression. I don't know what he's thinking and that makes me really nervous.

"Anyway, my favorite movie is The Princess Bride and my favorite book is Jane Eyre."

"Care to explain those?"

"Not particularly."

The car is small, and I feel like I am surrounded by his scent. Like he's so close and yet because he's not touching me, he feels a million miles away. But almost like he can read my mind (Oh, god. I would die if he could read my mind.) he leans in and his hand covers mine on my leg. And then with his other hand, he reaches out across the small space between us and pushes my hair back like he did the day at school.

"I like it when you wear your hair down," he says. That's all. Just nine little words that probably shouldn't make me feel all the things I'm feeling. Like elated that he's touching me. And sublimely blissful that he likes my hair. Because that makes me feel pretty. That makes me want to run into my bedroom and bathroom and throw all the barrettes and rubber bands away. "And you were right when you said that I didn't really know anything about you," he continues. "You're…you're…"

I gulp. It's loud. I'm sure he hears it.

"What?" I whisper. "What am I?"

"You're just…more."

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than soft, fluffy robes.

And ILY all, too!


	12. Chapter 12

October 31, 1994

Dear Veronica,

Edward and I sat in his car for hours. And all we did was talk. We talked about everything and nothing all at the same time. He asked me about my favorite things and then he told me his. And based on his answers, I'm fairly certain that there is so much more to Edward Cullen that I ever imagined.

Like how his favorite color is brown. Although, he didn't really explain that one to me at all. It was weird since I gave him this whole (now that I think about it) really long and embarrassing reason why my favorite color was blue. He just told me to think about it. And to be honest, all I've done is think about it. I mean, brown is such an odd color. It's so plain and blah. And when I think about it, I've never actually seen him wear brown.

His favorite book is "Bram Stoker's Dracula", but he said the movie sucked. I didn't really have anything to add to that conversation because I've never read the book. I tried to read it last year in Junior English. It was one of the books on our reading list, but I couldn't even make it past the first chapter because I thought it was boring. In a creepy sort of way. I read "War and Peace" instead. Which was also so boring it made me want to kill myself, but it was required reading for AP Senior English. Also, I told him that vampires scare me. Just the idea of them. Like, they're these monsters that want to literally suck the life out of you. And yeah, I get that there's supposed to be all this sexual innuendo, but blood isn't sexy. In fact, just the sight of blood makes me sick.

He told me that his favorite movie is A Clockwork Orange. Which I've never seen. But I'm thinking that maybe I should watch it. I could see if they have the video at the library because if Edward loves it, I'm sure I would love it, too. Maybe. I'm not really sure because he didn't do a very good job of explaining what it was about. He just said things like "violent" and "brilliant" and "ahead of its time." I don't know. It seems to me that if it were so good, I would have heard of it before. And I haven't. Also, I don't really care for violent things.

I secretly wish that I hadn't told him my favorite movie was The Princess Bride. I mean, when I think about it, it makes me sound like I'm eleven years old. And THAT makes me wonder if the reason he didn't kiss me was because he thought I seemed too childish. Which is really the thing that sucks most of all. Because I'm not childish. Not really. Not in all the ways it seems important. But I can't really tell him all the reasons that I'm not childish because I'm so afraid that he will just feel sorry for me. And that's not what I want for him to feel for me at all.

So, yeah. Edward didn't kiss me. I mean, he held my hand and stuff, but he never tried to do anything else. And I don't really know what to make of that. Because I wanted him to kiss me. Like, I wanted it more than I can possibly tell you. I've never kissed a boy before. Well, not since fourth grade when I tried it out with Tyler. But that doesn't count. I want to know what it's like to REALLY kiss a boy. And Edward looks like he has soft lips and his breath smells like spearmint gum. I'll bet he's a good kisser. I mean, my whole body tingles when he holds my hand. I can't imagine what it would feel like if he actually kissed me for real. With tongue. I would probably have to shower multiple times if he ever does.

God, I really hope he does.

Edward walked me home at about three this morning. He told me that he really hoped I would see him again. And of course, I told him that I would. He wants me to sneak out again tonight. And since tonight is Halloween, the good news is that Charlie is working. The bad news is that I only got like four hours of sleep before school. So, I'm pretty tired. I'm going to make dinner early and tell Emmett I'm not feeling well, so hopefully I can get a few hours of sleep before he goes to bed tonight. Edward said he would meet me at the same time. But this time, he insisted that he meet me at my apartment.

I feel as if I could just give my whole self to Edward. But the thing is, there's a part of me that's a little scared. More than a little scared. He told me he was bad news, but really, everything he's shown me has been the exact opposite of bad. But I still don't know for sure because he hasn't really opened himself up at all. And the truth is, neither have I. Not completely. Not with everything. And like I said before, I feel like he can see me. And being seen is terrifying when I've only ever been invisible.

Anyway, I need to go make dinner.

Love,

Bella

PS: I really like him. So much. And I know he likes me, too.

PPS: I might not know why he thinks he's bad news, but I intend to find out tonight.

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	13. Chapter 13

"You made it," Edward whispers.

He's standing at the bottom of the stairs outside my apartment, and a part of me is still surprised to find him here.

Waiting.

Waiting for me.

It's still beyond all comprehension that I have that the most amazing boy – who happens to be beautiful and quiet and deep – is waiting for me. Sneaking around with me.

"Did you doubt me?"

"Not even for a minute."

He flicks his almost-finished cigarette onto the parking lot, and I walk over closer to him. I try to get as close as possible. You know, without seeming like I'm trying to get as close as possible.

"Are you ready?"

"For what?" I ask, suddenly more nervous than I was before. "Aren't we…well, I mean…are we _going_ somewhere?"

"Why? Are you scared?" he asks, reaching out to take my hand.

I shiver all over and I wonder if, somehow, this will ever seem like no big deal. Like the fact that he's actually touching me could ever possibly be anything less than extraordinary. Because obviously it couldn't.

"No way."

We get in his car which is parked on the other side of the building. And once we're inside, he starts the engine. And a part of me thinks that I should maybe tell him that I don't think I should go because we are actually leaving, but then I remember that last night I made the decision that I would pretty much follow Edward anywhere. And nothing about that feeling has changed.

We drive in silence for several minutes, but the silence doesn't bother me because the entire time, Edward's hand holds mine in my lap. I try not to think about just how close both of our hands are to…well, the place between my legs. I also try to ignore just how much that place seems to be affected by the entire situation. I'm fairly certain that I shouldn't be affected this way. Well, at least not to this extent, but I can't help it and I want to squeeze my legs together. Or maybe spread them apart.

By the time I convince myself that I am not a total slut (even if it is for Edward) and control my sudden and overpowering sexual urges, I realize that Edward has driven us out past the Forks city limits. Wow. I'm not entirely sure how long I was arguing with my vagina.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Somewhere…festive."

He chuckles, but his voice seems ominous.

"Festive?"

"We're almost there."

He pulls onto a long graveled road. Well, actually, it's more like a path. And I've never been here before, and to be honest, I really am starting to get a little nervous. All these things are running through my head. Like Charlie telling me that I can't trust everyone. And Emmett telling me that he was there for me if I ever wanted to talk about Edward, who is quite possibly bad news or quite possibly the boy I'm falling for.

And now that I've snuck out without talking to him, I realize that no one knows where I am.

"Nervous now?" he says, parking the car.

"No," I lie. Blatantly. "Where are we?"

"Come on, and I'll show you."

We get out of the car and Edward walks around to the passenger side to get me. There's another path off to the side, and when he takes my hand again, he begins to lead us in that direction. I falter and stumble. Or maybe I just stop. And for the first time since the first time he held my hand, I'm not entirely sure I find it blissful. But then he squeezes – just slightly – and I look up into his eyes that in the middles of the night are the color of the forest. His thumb strokes over my palm, and I know that even though I'm nervous – more nervous than I've ever, ever been – that Edward would never hurt me.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," I whisper. "I do."

It's not even a lie.

"Close your eyes."

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	14. Chapter 14

My legs are shaking. Mostly from walking on an unsteady surface with my eyes closed for the last five minutes. Edward clearly has no understanding of how dangerous that is, given my ability to fall on a perfectly and stable surface. But I'm okay. And even more than that, I don't give a fuck about anything other than the fact that he's currently standing behind me with his hands underneath my hair on my neck.

"Can I open my eyes now?" I whisper.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

His question seems to imply more than if I'm ready to open my eyes. And all of my answers – every single last one of them – are yes.

A million times, yes.

He whispers all low, "Open them."

I'm still so dazed from the sound of his voice, his fingers on my neck, his body so close behind me, it takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust and I don't really process where I am for a few moments.

Until I do.

"_A cemetery_?" I hiss, whirling around. "_You brought me to a cemetery_?"

I'm a little more than freaked out by this new development. And all sorts of things are running through my mind. Like what kind of creepy boy brings someone to a cemetery? Alright, so maybe that's the only think I'm really thinking. Because really, what else can I possibly think?

"Are you trying to make me think that you're some…some…some _bad boy_ with this?" I ask. "Are you trying to scare me?"

He holds up his hands in what appears to be surrender, but I don't really know what he's surrendering to. It can't be me because we are in a fucking graveyard and I am the least scary thing that could possibly be here.

"I was thinking that it could be fun. It's Halloween."

"Oh, right," I say sarcastically, like his explanation is the most logical thing I've ever heard. "_Fun_ is the first thing I think of when I think of cemeteries."

"Are you really scared?" he asks.

"Well, I mean, I've never really been to a graveyard before. And the only thing I'm thinking about is that when I was in sixth grade, Emmett convinced me to watch _Pet Sematary_ and it scared the crap out of me. I was terrified for weeks. And I couldn't tell my dad because he would have been mad that we watched a rated R movie. I had nightmares about that creepy kid and couldn't really sleep even though Emmett was in the same room."

"You shared a room with your brother?" he asks. And of course, _that_ is what he notices. And not the fact that I'm about three seconds from running away from him and this freaking scary-ass place. Of course, I can't really run away because we're not even in Forks anymore and I'm miles away from home.

"Yeah," I tell him. I don't add that I currently still share a room with my brother.

"You know I won't let anything hurt you, right?" His voice is soft, and he's stepping in closer to me.

My body reacts to his, and I wonder if it's possible for attraction to be greater than fear. And more than that, I have all these feelings and thoughts about Edward as a protector. Which is really fucking stupid because he's the one who brought me here in the first place.

"We can leave if you want," he adds. "I just…I'm sorry. This was a stupid idea."

"Well, I mean," I start, stepping into him, "what did you want to do here?"

I can already feel myself giving into him, and I can't even hate myself for it because I know that I would want to be with him anywhere. Even a cemetery…in the middle of the night…on Halloween. He slides his hands down my arms and I shiver. I can't help but remember that someone (probably Emmett) told me once that when your body involuntarily shivers, someone is supposedly standing on your grave. And it would be super creepy if we were actually standing on my grave right now. But then I feel his hands slide into mine, and I know that any and all shivering is coming from his touch. And oh, god…this is the closest we've actually ever been.

"Do you want me to tell you a ghost story?" he whispers.

"No. Definitely not."

"What would you like me to do?"

_Kiss me_, I think. And I might even close my eyes. Standing this close to him, I notice something. Edward's heart is beating as fast as mine. I can feel it. And while I want him to kiss me as much as I've ever really wanted anything, I realize that there's something I possibly want more. Well, maybe not more, per say, but definitely just as much. So, I look up at him and I whisper, "Tell me something about yourself, Edward. Something no one else knows."

His eyes, they pierce me, they see right into my soul. And I hold my breath and wait for the words that I know are going to fall from his lips. I wait for his secrets, his reasons for thinking that he's not a good person because I know deep down he is.

"Last year, I flunked out of college, and I'm pretty sure my father hates me."

That wasn't at all what I was expecting.

"I'm sure he doesn't hate you," I tell him.

I don't know that for sure, but fathers don't just hate their children. Even when they fuck up. Although, Charlie would probably be close to hating me if he knew what I was doing right now.

"He doesn't talk to me."

"My dad doesn't really talk to me either," I tell him. "Except to tell me what I'm not allowed to do."

He laughs a little, and I fight the urge to hug him.

"Do you think less of me now?"

"Why would I?"

"I don't know," he sighs. "Because I brought you to a cemetery on our second date. And because I'm a loser in general."

I die a little because he called this a date.

A second date.

I'm dating Edward Cullen.

I think.

"Well, the cemetery is creepy," I admit, "but it's not so bad now." I squeeze his hands and smile up at him. "And you're not a loser. At least, I don't think you are. You're nineteen. Some people don't even go to college for a couple years after high school. You could always go back if you wanted."

He breathes out a long gust of air like he's been holding his breath forever. It covers my face with smoke and spearmint, and I'm dizzy with everything he makes me feel.

"I don't know if that's what I want," he admits quietly.

"I think that's okay," I tell him.

"Do you know what I really want?" he asks softly.

"No."

"I really want to kiss you."

And suddenly, I'm no longer in a graveyard, but in the middle of the best dream I could ever imagine. Where the beautiful boy is standing beside me, holding my hands, and asking to kiss me.

"I've never had a real kiss before."

I don't know why I tell him that, but it seems important.

"So, I'll be your first?"

He pulls his hand from mine and reaches up to touch my cheek.

"You will be if you kiss me."

"I'm definitely gonna kiss you."

A million frantic heartbeats pass as he leans in. And then it's soft – it's so soft as he presses his mouth against mine. Over and over with nothing but lips and breath and a desire so strong I know my body can't contain it. My hand clutches the hem of his shirt; his hand slides down to my neck. And just before he pulls away, his tongue slides across my bottom lip.

I'm pretty sure I whimper.

I'm pretty sure I can't help it.

"That was…" he breathes.

"Amazing," I finish.

He presses his forehead against mine, and we stand there in silence just looking at each other. I feel like this is the most romantic moment in the history of every romantic moment that ever was. I'm certain of it.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, finally breaking the silence between us.

"When can we do it again?"

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Please leave me some.

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	15. Chapter 15

November 1, 1994

Dear Veronica,

Is it possible for the very best moment of your life to coincide with the absolute worst? Because that is absolutely what happened to me this morning.

First of all, Edward kissed me. This was of course after he took me to a cemetery for what he referred to as our second date. I was obviously elated by this, even if I was a little confused by everything. And by everything, I mean the whole scary place and the fact that I not only snuck out, but actually got in his car and let him drive me outside town.

But the kiss.

**THE KISS.**

Oh, Veronica, it was the best kiss I could have ever hoped for. He was so quiet and sweet. And his lips were so very soft when they kissed me. And that was all that he did. Just kissed. He didn't stick his tongue inside my mouth or try to swallow my face like I've seen other boys at school do to their girlfriends. Like this one time, I saw Lauren Mallory making out with Mike Newton and his mouth was all over her face. He was actually licking her chin. And well, it just looked gross. And not at all romantic or perfect like my kiss with Edward.

It makes me wonder if all girls feel like I felt when they get their first kisses. (Even if chin licking is involved.) You know, maybe if Lauren loves Mike, any kind of kiss might seem perfect. Although, I don't think she loves him. I'm pretty sure she loves sex. At least that's what she seems to talk about a lot to other girls.

But Edward's kiss… Edward's kiss was perfect. It wasn't too much and it made me feel EVERYTHING. I felt like I could have let him kiss me like that for hours. Even days!

But all of that was ruined.

It was absolutely, positively ruined when he brought me home!

Emmett was outside waiting. He was on the steps outside our apartment waiting for me. And when Edward and I pulled up, I panicked when I saw him. A million thoughts ran through my head, but the first thing and honestly, the most important thing was that Edward needed to get away. Fast. I mean, Edward is tall and yeah, he's two years older and everything, but Emmett is FREAKING HUGE. And I was scared that he might just beat the crap out of him.

But once Edward saw what was going on, he said he should "talk to him." Oh, my god! I wanted to die. The last thing in the world I wanted to happen was Edward having anything close to a conversation with Emmett.

And it only got worse.

After Emmett yelled at me, he started in on Edward. He sounded like Charlie, to be honest. He kept saying things like "underage" and "not allowed" and "who the fuck do you think you are?" Well, Charlie probably wouldn't use the word fuck, but still.

And here's the thing, Edward didn't even say anything to him. He just stood there and took it. I don't even stand there and take anything from Emmett. That could be because I know he would never hurt me, and Edward didn't really have that luxury. But still, he didn't even defend himself.

WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG.

And I wanted to scream it. I would have, but Emmett was so busy being an asshole, I couldn't even get a word in. And then, Edward just left. No, I'm sorry, he didn't just leave. First, he looked at me and mouthed the words "I'm sorry," and then he just left.

That's all.

He's sorry.

After he gave me the best (and only) kiss of my life, he left and he's sorry.

And I'm mortified by all of it.

Mortified, and never speaking to Emmett again.

I haven't gotten any sleep, and now I have to get ready for school. And all I can think about is the way Edward looked when he left. Just defeated. But it's pretty hard not to lose when you don't even fight back.

Why does everything have to be so difficult?

Love,

Bella

PS: Emmett didn't tell Charlie when he got home this morning. I should be happy about that, but I'm not. It doesn't matter because Emmett is acting like another overbearing, overprotective father. You know, because having one just isn't enough.

PPS: And how can I still be thinking about the way Edward kissed me after everything that happened?

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than protective big brothers love little sisters.

And ILY all, too!


	16. Chapter 16

My day passes much like every single other day. Except today, I'm so tired I don't even care that no one notices me. Not that I usually care, but I'm always aware of it. Today, I look at the clock and wonder how I'm going to survive not getting any sleep.

Today just sucks.

And a part of me wonders if Edward's day is sucking, too. And then I feel bad that I sort of – a little more than quite possibly – hope that he's suffering like me. But then I remember that he just left. And he's probably at home sleeping right now while I have to sit here and listen to Mr. Banner discuss micro-organisms.

Somewhere around my third Mountain Dew, I have an epiphany. It's amazing what buckets of caffeine and sugar can do for your brain. Anyway, I get this rush of adrenaline and I think that Edward is definitely going to come to see me this afternoon like he did the other day. I mean, he has to, right?

So, for the rest of the day, anticipation replaces the anger and rejection. Because when I see him, he can tell me what he was thinking. And I can apologize for having such a dysfunctional fucking family.

I'm waiting by the gym today before my study period.

I look for him.

I even walk over to the same place under the stairwell, but he's not there. I feel hot tears fill my eyes, and I blink them back. I refuse to cry over this. This is what I should have expected all along. My situation is too much for someone else to handle. Hell, I can barely handle it and I've had ten years of practice.

And then righteous anger replaces the hurt, and I want to punch something. I want to scream.

Fuck that.

Fuck Emmett for yelling at him.

Fuck Charlie for the stupid rules that made all of this happen.

And fuck him.

Fuck Edward for all the soft touches, all the hand holding and for a kiss that was so perfect that I will probably never forget it. And fuck him for letting me think that I was worth all the effort.

I don't punch the wall.

Even though I really freaking want to.

I take my backpack that seems so much heavier than usual (the Mountain Dew must be wearing off) and I head to the library. I have to work at the diner after school today, so I can save enough money to go to college and eventually get a job that will allow me the financial freedom to live my life how I want it.

_In a house of my own._

_With a bedroom I don't have to share._

_Doing whatever the fuck I want._

These thoughts should make me happy, but they don't. They just remind me that this is Charlie's plan for my life. And Charlie is (still) an asshole. Along with every other person with a penis.

_Fuck all the penises._

I laugh at this thought in spite of myself. Mostly because I'm wondering if that's Lauren Mallory's motto.

It probably is.

And for the first time today, I smile.

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

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And ILY all, too.


	17. Chapter 17

I fall into bed, exhausted, trying not to think about the fact that Edward never came into the diner while I worked this evening. I also try not to think about the fact that I wanted him to. That I looked up at the door every single time it opened.

Waylon told me I looked like crap, which normally would have been funny. You know, because it's Waylon and everything. But it wasn't funny because it was most likely true. And an hour before I was supposed to leave, he told me to go home. I was too tired to argue.

I close my eyes, just knowing that sleep will come quickly, if only I could turn my stupid brain off.

Even behind closed eyes, I see the shadow at the door before I hear him. I know Emmett's standing there waiting, but I have nothing to say to him. Actually, I have a million things to say to him, but none of it matters. I know what side of the fence he's on. And it's not mine.

"I'm hungry," he says. Like it's nothing. Like this is just another normal day.

I pull the blanket over my head and roll over.

"So what?" he continues. "You're not gonna talk to me now?"

"No," I say through teeth clenched so hard it's making my jaw hurt. "Not just now."

"Oh, so you're never talking to me again, then? Is that it?"

"That's the plan."

"Fine," he huffs, and I hear him as he walks away from the door. But then, not even five seconds later, he's back. "No. You know what? That's _not_ fine. Not when I did you a favor this morning."

This grabs my attention and I shoot up, stilling on the bed.

"A favor? _A favor_?" I'm pretty sure I'm laughing. It also might be a bit hysterical. "Please, Emmett, tell me, how did you do me a _favor_ this morning?"

"I didn't tell Charlie."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"Tell him! I don't care," I rage. "Tell him _everything_. What's he going to do? Ground me from working at the diner? _Oh, I know_! Maybe he's going to ground me from cleaning the apartment and doing all the laundry. Or _maybe_ he's going to ground me from all the cooking. Please, Emmett. _Tell him_. Tell him _everything_!"

"Bells…"

"No," I hiss, jumping up from the bed, adrenaline puling through me. Edward might have been scared of my brother, but I'm not. "How could you do that?" I ask. "How could you…embarrass me like that? Isn't my life embarrassing enough?"

"I was worried, okay? I woke up, and you were gone and I was really fucking worried."

I can tell he means it, and just for a moment, it almost makes me want to tell him that I understand. But then I remember Edward's face and my own personal humiliation. And I can't understand that. The fact that he was worried doesn't make up for any of that.

"You told me," I say, choking up just a little. "You told me you understood. You told me that you thought all of this was unfair. You said we should be able to date…that we were adults who should be able to make our own decisions."

"Yes," he says. "And I meant it. But I didn't say we should make _stupid_ decisions."

"Why was it stupid?"

As soon as I ask the question, I can think of about a million reasons why it was stupid. But then, Emmett starts to list them anyway. Just to make sure I know.

"Well, you snuck out in the middle of the night with a guy you don't even really know at all. And he happens to be nineteen or twenty. And then not only do you sneak out, but you let him drive you off somewhere when no one knows where you are."

_Thank god he doesn't know about the cemetery._

"And I was fine."

"He could have taken advantage of you, Bells."

"Yeah," I say, laughing. "Because nobody _ever_ takes advantage of me. Tell me something, Emmett. When was the last time you made your own bed? Or mated your own socks?"

He at least has the decency to look wounded.

"Is that what you think? That I take advantage of you?"

"Yes…no…I don't know."

I don't look at him. Suddenly, all of this is taking too much energy, and I don't have any energy left. Suddenly, I'm so tired and all I want to do is go to bed and forget this day ever happened.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Bells."

"I'm going to bed now," I tell him, crawling back on my bed and pulling the covers over me.

I know he's sorry, and I know that I'll eventually forgive him (because I have to and because I really do love him) but right now I need to be mad at him. So, my forgiveness is gonna have to wait at least until the morning after I've slept for eight hours. He seems to understand, and I hear him walk out of the bedroom, turning the light off before he leaves.

I sleep hard.

All night.

And my dreams are filled with soft flannel, softer lips and stolen moments with a misunderstood boy who might possibly understand me better than anyone else.

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than little sisters still love big brothers.

And ILY all, too!


	18. Chapter 18

November 2, 1994

Dear Veronica,

I don't have much time to write before school, but I wanted to tell you that things were sort of…different this morning. It was odd, really. And I still don't know what to think about it.

First of all, I woke up to the smell of toast. Technically, I woke up to the smell of burnt toast and coffee. When I walked into the kitchen, Charlie was sitting at the table and Emmett was at the stove. Making breakfast. Well, he wasn't doing a very good job, and I could tell that Charlie was kind of irritated. But I didn't care because it was so strange to see Emmett like that. Cursing and making eggs when he clearly didn't even know what he was doing. And I got a little choked up.

Charlie asked if I could help him, but Emmett told him that it wasn't my responsibility to feed everyone. There was a moment of awkward silence where Charlie just looked back and forth between the two of us. I mean, it wasn't as awkward as some of the silences I've shared with Edward, but still. Yeah, it was definitely awkward.

Anyway, Charlie looked at Emmett and told him that he was right. And then, he told me to sit down and asked me if I wanted any orange juice. AND THEN HE GOT SOME FOR ME! I felt like I was in some episode of The Twilight Zone. Not that I ever really understood that show, but that was just it. I sort of felt like I didn't understand what was going on.

Emmett didn't say anything else to me until he placed a plate in front of me. The eggs were runny and he used too much butter, but you know what? I ate all of it (including the burnt toast) and it might have been the best breakfast ever.

I did feel bad that Emmett burned his finger. And when he sat down to eat, I reached over and nudged his arm just a little. He looked at me and he didn't have to say anything. I just knew. His "I'm sorry" was written inside his brown eyes. And I hoped that my "I forgive you" was written inside mine. Our eyes have always been the only similar thing about us.

After Charlie left for work, I helped Emmett wash the dishes. And we just stood there. My hands were in soapy water and his were wrapped in a dish towel. And Emmett told me that he loved me. And then he told me that we would figure something out. And I told him I loved him, too. More than anything in the world.

I just hope he was right about figuring something out.

He didn't mention Edward, so I didn't either. And honestly, I'm trying not to think about him too much because it all just makes me sad.

Anyway, I have to go.

Love,

Bella

PS: My eyes are brown. But that couldn't have been why it was his favorite color, could it? Probably not. Anyway, I'm not supposed to be thinking about him.

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than breakfast I didn't have to make myself.

And ILY all, too.

There will be another update later today.


	19. Chapter 19

I'm sitting in the lunch room, staring down at a soggy hamburger and six tater-tots. None of it looks appetizing, and there's no way I'm gonna eat it. My stomach turns over, and I push the tray back before reaching down to pick up my backpack. And that's when I see them – two scuffed up black combat boots.

I look up, and she's standing there. Waif-like with wide, grey eyes surrounded by thick black eyeliner. Her short hair is messy – almost like she rolled out of bed before coming to school. But there's something deliberate about the style. It matches her torn, faded jeans and tight tee-shirt with a picture of Tori Amos breastfeeding a pig on the front. I don't even know if she's allowed to wear that here.

"Meet me in the girl's room on the second floor."

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Five minutes."

With that, she turns around and walks out of the cafeteria. And I'm left here wondering what the hell just happened.

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Every high school in the country has a bathroom that no one ever goes to. And as I push open the heavy door, I understand why. Thick smoke hangs heavy in the air combined with the sickeningly sweet smell of vanilla body spray. I look across the room, and sitting on the radiator by the window smoking a cigarette is the same girl from downstairs.

"Hi, Bella," she says, blowing out a long breath of smoke.

"Hi."

"Bet you've never been in here before, have you?"

She takes another drag, and I stand here frozen in the same spot by the door.

"No. Not really."

"I'm shocked," she says, laughing.

She looks out the window, but I interrupt, "I don't mean to be rude, but…"

"But you want to know why you're here?"

I nod my head.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" she asks. "Figures."

"You don't know anything about me."

I'm feeling defensive and I don't entirely know why.

"You're right," she says, bringing the cigarette back up to her lips. "I don't. And that's about as much as you know about me, right?"

"_Should_ I know you?" I ask. "I don't mean to be rude, but I don't even know who you are."

"My name's Alice."

"Nice to me you…Alice."

I feel like I'm not even myself – like I'm watching some version of myself having this weird interaction with this girl I've never even seen before.

"Do you mind…I mean…did you need something?" I ask.

"He wanted me to give you something," she says casually.

You know, like I'm supposed to know who _he_ is.

And then it hits me.

Like a ton of fucking bricks.

"Who?" I ask, needing her to confirm it.

"Who do you think?" she says sardonically.

"Edward?"

Just saying his names hurts and soothes my heart at the same time.

"Yeah," she says, flicking the cigarette out of the crack in the window. She reaches into this big army green bag and pulls out a folded piece of notebook paper. "He said he couldn't call you because he didn't have your number. Actually, he said he didn't even know if you had a phone."

"He never asked."

My hand is itching to reach out and take the paper from her. I'm a little more than desperate to see it if he's written me a note. I mean, it has to be a note, right? And honestly, I don't really know what to think about the fact that Edward has written me a note. And that he's passing it to me through this girl that I don't know, but apparently he does.

I try not to think about what that might mean.

"Typical. Boys are fucking stupid," she says. "It's all the blood that drains from their brains to their dicks on a constant basis."

She hands me the paper and stands up. Part of me wants to wait for her to leave, so I can read it by myself. But the bigger part of me needs to see what it says immediately. I open it as quickly as my shaking fingers let me.

_Bella,_

_I'm sorry._

_I'm so fucking sorry about yesterday. About everything._

_I never meant to get you in trouble, and I know I should stay away._

_But I can't. _

_If you still want to see me or even talk to me, I'll be waiting for you in the same place by the gym._

_Edward_

I want to read it a hundred times and obsess over every word, but Alice catches my eye.

"I guess I'll leave you to it," she says.

"Wait," I tell her. "How do you… I mean, how do you know him?"

"Not the way you're thinking," she says.

"I wasn't…I wasn't thinking anything," I lie, even as all the relief in the world covers me.

She laughs. "You're a sweet girl. Clueless, but sweet."

I watch her walk to the door.

"Wait!"

"What?" she turns around.

"Why am I clueless?"

She brings her thumb to her mouth and chews on the nail.

"I've been going to this school for two months. We don't have any classes together, but I sit three tables down from you in study period every day. And up until five minutes ago, you didn't know my name."

I'm horrified.

Even more so when she continues speaking.

"You're not the only one around here who feels invisible."

"I'm…I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she says, smiling. "Now you know my name. And you know where I usually hang out. Come find me sometime."

And with that, she walks out the door.

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Reviews are love.

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And ILY all, too!


	20. Chapter 20

My heart is pounding as I approach the place. _Our place_, I think as I walk quickly along the sidewalk. _We have a place_. I don't even know how to process that.

I'm looking down, avoiding the cracks, too terrified to look up and see if he's there. I haven't been able to breathe since lunch. And this anticipation is just too much. I want this too much. I feel like it isn't possible that anyone has ever wanted anything the way that I want Edward.

Oh, god.

I do.

I want Edward.

So much it actually hurts.

His note is in my pocket. I reach in and feel the smooth, worn paper against my hand. I touch it to remember that he's the one who wanted me to come. He's the one who reached out to me. He found a way…even when I couldn't.

I can't help thinking about Alice. I've done nothing _but_ think of her. You know, when I wasn't reading his note a million times. I'm pretty sure I didn't hear a word that any of my teachers said. She was right. I didn't know her. I'd never even seen her before today.

And how is that possible?

Have I been that unobservant?

That caught up in myself?

I don't like the way this makes me feel. I don't consider myself a selfish person. I barely consider myself at all. But maybe underneath all the dark makeup and shocking clothing is someone who's not so different from me. I heard it in her voice. She sounded the way I feel. I decide that after today, I'm going to make it a point to get to know her.

When I reach the edge of the gym, I look up. And he's there. He's there and he's looking right at me. I don't even see what he's wearing – only his eyes. My heart pounds wildly, and I think I forget to take a breath. Hell, I think I forget my name. But I don't have to remember it because he says it.

"Bella."

That's all.

Just my name.

And I could die right now from the way that he's looking at me.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi," he says back, sounding an awful lot like me. "You got the note?"

I nod, incapable of anything else.

"I'm sorry."

We speak the same words at the exact same time, but before I can say anything else, he continues.

"Why are you sorry?"

I stand here frozen, wondering what he means.

"Of _course_ I'm sorry," I tell him. "I'm sorry for all of it. I'm sorry for the way that Emmett treated you, for all the things he said. He's just…I'm just…"

I can't finish the thought because there's nothing I can say that won't reveal just how horrible and embarrassing this all is.

"No, Bella. No," he whispers, reaching out to take my hands. He tugs gently, pulling me back further underneath the stairwell. And I let him because I can't _not_ go with him. "You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault. It's me. I should have known better. I shouldn't have kept you out so long."

"But I _wanted_ to be out with you."

He sucks in a deep breath, his green eyes holding mine.

"Did you get in a lot of trouble?" he asks, his voice low. Not whisper-low, just low…rough. Like he's been smoking too many cigarettes.

"I fought with Emmett," I tell him with a sigh. "It was bad, but I think we're okay now. He didn't tell my dad if that's what you're wondering. But I don't know if…"

I don't tell him what I'm thinking because I don't want _him_ to think that all of this is just too much trouble.

That _I'm_ too much trouble.

"What? You don't know if what?"

I let out a shaky breath. I want to look away from him, but I can't. He squeezes my hands softly, and I find a certain amount of strength in the fact that he still seems to want to touch me.

"I don't know if I'll be able to sneak out anymore. You know, because Emmett knows now. And he'll probably…I don't know, he'll probably be checking on me more now or something."

My heart falls as I say the words because deep down, I know they're true.

Something steels in Edward's eyes. I don't understand it. Well, technically, I don't _want_ to understand it. Because it probably has to do with me. I feel my bottom lip start to tremble, and I bite down on it hard.

"Yeah," he says, "I get it."

"He was wrong, you know? All those things he said…they were wrong."

He reaches up and touches my cheek. I feel it in every part of my body. It tingles and it's warm. I feel it rush through me like surge of electricity. But it's not like a shock. It's more like everything inside me turns on like a light.

"You don't…" he starts, and I want to focus on his words, but his fingers push into my hair, moving it away from my face. "You don't think he's right?"

He licks his lips, and all I can think about is the way he kissed me on Halloween. If he wasn't here, I would probably close my eyes so I could remember it better.

"No. I don't."

And just like that, _he_ closes _his_ eyes and he leans in to kiss me. And just like the first time, I'm overwhelmed by his smell, his sweet breath, the too-soft press of his lips against mine.

_I want more_.

I open my mouth, wanting to taste him, needing to feel his tongue slide against my own. I've never kissed like that before, but I just know that it's supposed to be like this. And I want it to be like this with him. But Edward stops. There's no tongue. Hell, there's not even any more kissing. And I'm just standing here with my mouth open like an idiot. He pulls away and looks down at me. His eyes are wide, his pupils dilated. And Jesus, he looks hot. I can't even close my mouth.

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "I shouldn't have…I shouldn't do that here."

"Then where should you do it?"

I feel too needy to even be embarrassed.

Even when he laughs a little.

"Do you have to work after school?"

"Not today."

"Does Emmett?"

I grin as I realize what he's suggesting.

"I think he does."

He kisses me on the cheek once, twice, holding still the third time. And then he whispers, "I'll see you at four."

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than stolen kisses with no tongue.

And ILY all, too.


	21. Chapter 21

November 2, 1994

Dear Veronica,

I don't think there's any way that I can possibly convey what I'm feeling right now. I mean, how does someone scream on a piece of paper? There just aren't enough words. Or any words at all, to be honest.

Edward gave me a note. Well, he sent it to me through this girl, Alice. I don't know her, but I plan to. I thought that she knew him at first. You know, like she KNEW him. But she said it wasn't like that. I wonder what it actually is like. I mean, I don't think he has a sister. He never mentioned a sister to me. But really, when I think about it, Edward hasn't ever really mentioned all that much. I should probably ask more questions. You know, like, "Hey. You know that really strange but also really pretty girl who seems far cooler than me in more ways than I can imagine? What is she to you?"

Yes.

I'll just get right on that.

Anyway, the really BIG news is that he came to the school today. He waited for me and then, HE KISSED ME AGAIN!

(Inserts screaming and kicking here.)

And the kiss was sweet and soft and perfect again. And oh my god! How does he always do that? There was no tongue this time, but I feel like I might possibly die if Edward's tongue is in my mouth. Seriously. It might be too much and my heart might explode. And probably also my vagina.

I have to go.

He's coming at four and Charlie will be home at six. It's not much time, but it's enough. Well, it's enough for now. Especially when I thought I wouldn't see or hear from him again.

THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!

Love,

Bella

PS: I'll definitely be taking a long shower tonight.

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.

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	22. Chapter 22

I spend ten minutes wondering if I should wait for Edward in my apartment or meet him on the stairs. If I meet him on the stairs, he might want to take me somewhere again. Which I am definitely not opposed to, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. If I wait for him here, he's probably going to come inside. And then, Edward Cullen will be here.

In my apartment.

With no one else.

I guess I'm waiting inside.

When he's not here at exactly four, I get nervous and start biting my non-existent nails. When I look at the clock and see that it's ten after, I begin to panic. I start thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong.

Like maybe he was in a serious car accident. That Volvo is pretty old.

Or maybe he's somewhere making out with a short, pretty girl with big eyes like those Precious Moments figurines (which are creepy, by the way, but look almost beautiful on her).

No.

I definitely don't think he's doing that.

Or maybe, maybe he's just decided that he's not coming because I scared him with him my open mouth and slutty tongue that wanted him to lick it so much. Why, oh why did I have to open my stupid mouth?

By four-thirty, I walk outside (even though I shouldn't) to see if he's waiting on me.

He's not.

Boys are fucking stupid.

I go back inside and lay down on the couch. I think about the homework I still have to do, but there's no way I can possibly even bring myself to do it. So, I lay here. Wondering why he stood me up and why I have allowed myself to get so attached to someone I clearly don't even know.

At just before five, I decide I should probably start making dinner. Charlie will be home at six, and I'm going to have to pretend that nothing is wrong.

I'm pulling out the pot to boil spaghetti when I hear it. Three short taps on the door. My heart lurches into my throat, and I have to force myself to swallow it back down. I want to walk over to the door slowly, but I can't. I practically run. Which, to be honest, is a little more pathetic than I'd ever hoped to be. And when I open the door, he's there.

His eyes are cast down and I can only see the messy hair on the top of his head. His hands are in his pockets. His posture is rigid and sloppy all at the same time. If that's even possible.

"Edward?" I say.

He looks up at me and his green eyes are dark. His cheeks are flushed and much like Emmett was this morning; his "I'm sorry" is written all over his expression.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he says.

He doesn't make a move to come inside, and I wonder if he's waiting on me to invite him. He probably is, but I don't know if I want to. I don't know anything about anything at all right now.

Not him.

Not my feelings.

And certainly not his feelings.

"Why are you?" I ask. "Late, I mean."

"Because I got in a fight with my dad."

"Oh," I say. Mostly because I don't know what else to say to that. And also because I've spent the last few hours going from one extreme emotion to another. But the wounded look on his face makes me ache, and even in spite of myself and all my better judgment, I tell him, "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He nods. "And I'm sorry, Bella. I would have called you, but I don't have your phone number. I got away as soon as I could. And you probably think I'm a total asshole, but I swear to god, I'm not."

Relief covers me at his words.

I hate it and love it all at the same time.

I love it because he has a valid reason, and it's exactly what I want to hear.

I hate it because the way he makes me feel is scary. Like once, I stood on the cliffs at La Push and looked over into the ocean. I'm terrified of heights and the sight made me dizzy. It made me feel like just the slightest move would cause me to tumble over the edge. And that's always what I feel like when I'm with him. Like I'm constantly on the edge of falling.

"Did you want to come inside?" I ask.

His exhale is so loud I can hear it.

"Only if you still want me to," he says, looking at me and smiling. "I know I messed up."

"I want you to."

When Edward walks inside, I notice a million little things that I've never really noticed before. Like the old kitchen table with the four mismatched chairs that Charlie found at a yard sale. Like the tan and green linoleum floor that was obviously done in the seventies. I never really think about where we live, and I've never been ashamed of it. But I don't know what Edward's house looks like. I don't know if he has hardwood floors or expensive tile. And I wonder if he'll think less of me because of where I live. But then I think that I would _never_ think less of him for anything like that. So, I ask him to sit down.

And then I have an idea…

I walk over to drawer by the kitchen sink and search for the black marker I know is mixed in with the pens and pencils. I find it and I walk back over to him.

"Hold out your hand," I tell him.

He looks at me questioningly, but he does it. And then I write seven digits on his palm. And then I blow until the ink is dry. It totally feels like the coolest (and possibly sexiest) thing I've ever done. I push the lid on the marker and look down at him and smile.

"Now you have my number."

He stares at his hand for a long while and I wonder if I just did something really stupid, but when he looks back up at me, I can tell by his expression and the smile on his face that I haven't. So, I take the seat next to him at the table.

"Why…" I start, wondering if I should ask the question I really want to ask. I decide that I do. "Why were you fighting with your dad?"

His eyes darken and narrow. And then, he runs his fingers through his hair.

"You don't really want to hear about all that."

"You're wrong," I tell him. "I do. I want to know everything about you."

"Why?"

I want to be honest. Truly, I do. I want to tell him how much I really like him. That I want to know everything about him because I think that he's exceptional. Because I think of him every moment. But I can't bring myself to say the words.

"Why do you think?"

I'm blushing. It's embarrassing.

He reaches across the table and touches my hand, and I look into his eyes. They're still dark, but not narrow. They're wide and open and I really hope that means he could be, too.

"Probably for the same reason I wanted to know your favorite color. And the same reason I sent you that note."

"And why was that?"

"You don't know?"

"I don't know," I tell him. "I mean, maybe I do. But maybe…maybe I just need to be sure."

"Because I like you, Bella," he says. "Because I _more_ than like you."

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Reviews are love.

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I more than love Marvar.

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	23. Chapter 23

November 2, 1994

Dear Veronica,

I know I've written in you three times today, but there has been so much going on.

He was late.

He was late, and I was hurt, but then he just showed up at my door. And yeah, I know I should have been pissed (and to be honest, I was) but in that moment, all I could think about was the fact that he was here. He was here. And that was enough.

Pathetic, right?

He couldn't stay very long because he came so late. And I felt bad because by the time it was five-thirty, I couldn't help looking at the clock every thirteen seconds because I was so afraid that Charlie would show up and catch him here. Even though we weren't doing anything except sitting at the table talking. And how much of a freak does that make me, really? And the most embarrassing thing was that he could tell. He could tell just how nervous I was, and he made the whole thing worse and better by telling me how sorry he was that he was late again. And how it was all his fault that we didn't have more time together. Which it was, but I didn't say that because it wasn't his fault that he had a fight with his dad.

I wanted to ask him more about the fight, but I didn't really get a chance to get into too much. But I really hope he'll talk to me eventually. There are so many things I want to know. And you know what? I really think there's a lot he needs to share.

At quarter to six, he told me that he knew he should leave because he didn't want to risk Charlie catching us. But then he asked if he could kiss me before he left. I wonder if boys (or men) really ask. I mean, it doesn't seem like they do. At least not in any of the movies I've ever seen. And I'm not really sure, but the fact that he asked made me so much more desperate to do it. I don't know if I can explain it. It's almost like by him asking, he's allowing me the choice to GIVE him that. Instead of just taking it. And that (if I'm being honest) makes me want to give him more than just a kiss.

I should tell you that kissing Edward Cullen is like I nothing I've ever experienced before. Not that I've kissed a bunch of people (or anyone at all) for that matter. But kissing him…well, it feels like the whole world stops. And while the whole world has stopped, the most spectacular thing I can imagine is happening at the same time. And it's happening to me. On my mouth.

How is something that amazing even possible?

Especially when he still hasn't used his tongue. You know, except when he licked my bottom lip the first time. I wish he would lick either of my lips again. I wish I could lick his. But I have decided that I am not using tongue again until he does.

I hope he does it soon.

Like tomorrow soon.

He asked if he could call me tonight, and I told him yes. I asked him to call after nine (because that's when Charlie goes to bed) and before ten (because that's when Emmett usually gets home).

I really hope he calls.

Anyway, I need to go. I'm gonna spend some time with Charlie before he goes to sleep. I think he could tell something was up with me at dinner. Mostly because I was being a spaz. I tried to be cool, though.

Love,

Bella

PS: EDWARD CULLEN IS CALLING ME TONIGHT!

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	24. Chapter 24

At exactly ten after nine, the phone rings. I know Charlie can't hear it because he doesn't have a phone in his room and I turned the ringer on this one down to low. I want to be cool and let it ring twice before I answer it, but I can't. It's barely rung at all when I find myself saying, "Hello."

"Bella?"

His voice on the phone might be even better than in person. I think that's because it sounds like he's whispering right in my ear.

"Yeah?"

"Hi."

"Hey."

There's this moment of silence and I rack my brain for something to say, but I can't really think of anything that doesn't sound stupid in my own head. This feeling, it's kind of awful, but also kind of amazing at the same time. You know, because even though it's awkward and we're not saying anything, he still called me.

"How are you?" he finally asks.

"I'm okay. How are you?"

He laughs, and I want to know what's funny.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"I don't know."

"What were you laughing at?"

He does it again.

I panic a little and think he's laughing at me.

"It's just…" he starts, but then I hear him sigh really loud and deep into the phone. Honestly, the sound of _that_ makes me shiver. "This is just so…I don't know…so _formal_."

"It doesn't have to be that formal."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know. I'm mean, _I'm_ not formal."

"No," he says. And it's funny; I think I can almost hear him smile through the phone. "You're not."

His words are nothing, yet they mean _something_ to me. It gives me that feeling that I had the first time he ever talked to me – the first time I ever noticed him looking.

"I have a question," I tell him hesitantly.

"What's that?"

I fall back on the couch and close my eyes. I'm holding my breath, though I don't entirely mean to. It's just that I don't really know how to approach this subject. I decide that directly is the best way to go.

"How do you know Alice?" I ask. "I mean, what is she to you?"

_Please, say your sister._

_Please, say your sister._

"Umm…" he starts, and I panic.

Because "_umm_" is never a good thing. "_Umm_" clearly means that he needs time to think of something to tell me that sounds better than "_She's a girl I used to date and kiss and make out with in cemeteries_."

"It's complicated."

_Fuck_.

_Complicated_ is so much worse than _umm_.

"Complicated like she's your long lost sister?"

"She's not my sister."

"Oh."

I don't say anything else. I can't. I can only squeeze my eyes shut and tell myself that I remember how to breathe.

"Bella?"

I can't speak because he will hear the disappointment in my voice. And I can't not speak because he's just said my name all expectantly.

"You can tell me, you know? If she's…if she's like somebody that you _used to know_ or whatever."

I can't even say the word.

Date.

I should be able to say it, but I can't. And I can't because even though we've kissed and snuck around and had what he referred to as two dates, everything is still new and shaky and possibly not really anything at all. I mean, it's something to me. But maybe it's not to him.

"Used to know?" he ask. "You mean…you mean like somebody that I used to go out with?"

He's laughing.

I don't know how to read his laughing.

"Yes…no…I don't know. I mean, she's not your sister. Is she your friend? Honestly, I don't really know what to think."

"You think I would give an ex-girlfriend a note to give to you at school?" His voice is a little high-pitched and incredulous. "Tell me you don't think that. Is that…is that really what you're thinking?"

"I don't _know _what I'm thinking, actually. Because we've been talking about this for like forty-seven minutes and you still haven't _told_ me how you know her."

Something I say makes him laugh. And that only serves to piss me off because I don't think that any of this is funny.

"She's my dad's girlfriend's daughter."

"And?"

"And that's all."

"Oh."

"I can't believe you thought she was like an ex or something."

And now I'm embarrassed. I feel like I spend about half my time feeling mortified with Edward.

"I didn't know," I tell him quietly, wanting to bury my head under the cushions of the couch. "I thought she was pretty."

There's a long silence in which I desperately need to know what he's thinking, but also never want to know either.

"She's okay, I guess," he says, and I die. "But I never really think about her like that. And she's not…"

"What?"

"She's not as pretty as you, okay?"

"Okay."

I feel a million things. _A million of them_. First of all, I'm able to breathe again. Secondly, Edward hasn't ever kissed Alice or looked into her big Precious Moments eyes. And he doesn't think of her as someone who's pretty. Which is totally awesome and I'm more relieved than I can explain. But I'm hot and flushed, and shivers of excitement cover my body as I realize what it is he actually just said.

Edward thinks I'm pretty.

"You think I'm pretty?" I ask, mostly because I'm stupid, but also because I have this slightly desperate (and mostly sad) need to hear him say it again.

"You know I do."

After a few seconds of nodding my head slowly, I realize he can't actually hear non-verbal responses.

"I guess so."

There's a long pause, but then he speaks softly into the phone. "I need to see you again."

Not that he _wants_ to see me or that it would be _nice_ to see me. He said he _needs_ to see me. Which makes me sound like air or water or sleep or food. Which also makes it a million times hotter, and makes him impossibly more tempting.

"Me too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

His sigh makes me smile.

"Edward?"

"What?"

"I think I have an idea."

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

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	25. Chapter 25

"Is this seat taken?" I ask.

"Does it look like it's taken?"

I look down at Alice. Today, she's wearing this baby doll dress that's mostly black with smatterings of purple flowers all over the fabric. It doesn't look very warm, but I guess that's why she's wearing the ugliest brown sweater that I've ever seen over it. Oh, and she's also wearing the combat boots again. Her look – yeah, it's interesting.

I ignore her defensive tone and sit down next to her.

"I wanted to thank you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," I say, biting my thumbnail. "You know, for giving me the note from Edward and stuff."

She doesn't really say anything. She just sits there…looking at me.

"And I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asks, looking down. It's almost like she's speaking to her lap.

"For being an oblivious asshole," I tell her, blowing out a long breath. "For not knowing who you were and never talking to you before."

"You're not an asshole."

"Thanks."

"And you're working on the oblivious."

"I don't really have any friends," I tell her. "You know, other than my brother."

"Yeah, me neither. Well, not since we moved here."

"Where are you from?"

"Chicago."

I notice that both of us have turned in our seats and are now facing each other.

"Why did you move to Forks?"

"So my mom could get laid on a regular basis."

"Oh." I don't know what else to say to that, but I find myself continuing. "Well, my dad never gets laid."

She laughs.

"Damn. That must suck for him," she say says. "I mean seriously, he must have like the bluest balls ever."

"Oh, Jesus," I say mortified.

"What?"

"Umm…I try not to ever think about my dad's…balls. And I really wish you wouldn't ever talk about them again."

This earns me a laugh, which also earns us a hushing sound from the librarian.

"So, umm…" she whispers, "is that why you can't date?"

"How do you know that?"

"Edward told me a little bit when he asked me to give you the note. Don't be mad at him, okay? I forced him to tell me because I wanted to know why I had to get involved. It's mostly your fault, you know?"

"Why is it my fault?"

"Well, if you had…I don't know, maybe talked to me before all this, we could have already been friends and I would have already known all your secrets. I think you need to accept responsibility, Bella."

She says all of it with a straight face. And out of everything she's just said, only one thing stands out.

"We're…we're friends now?"

"I'm probably not going to braid your hair tonight or anything, but yeah…I think we could be. You dad doesn't have anything against girls, right? I mean, he's pretty much only concerned with members of the opposite sex, isn't he?"

"I guess so."

"Well, last time I checked, I didn't have a dick."

I'm both uncomfortable and relieved by her bluntness. I'm also still stuck on the fact that apparently, I have a friend now. I envision us sitting in a coffee shop drinking lattes. Of course, in this scenario, Alice would have to be Phoebe. And Emmett would totally be Joey. I also realize that it's Thursday. And before I know it, I'm asking, "Hey, do you want to come over and watch Friends tonight? I won't get home from work until about seven-thirty, but you could meet me there if you wanted. I mean, I could like give you my address or whatever."

I've never had a friend over before, but Charlie can't be mad that I'm inviting a girlfriend over.

"Are you actually asking me to do something, Bella?"

"Well, yeah. But if it makes you feel better, I didn't ask you to braid my hair."

I grin.

And you know what? She does, too.

"You work at the diner, right?"

I nod.

"Why don't I come there first? It's the closest thing that Forks has to a coffee shop."

"Okay." I smile, wondering if she has some insight into my thoughts.

"Okay."

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Reviews are love.

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And ILY all, too!


	26. Chapter 26

I'm crouched down behind the counter putting away all the clean coffee cups and saucers when Waylon says, "Some girl is here to see you, Bella. She's…weird."

"Says the man with Alex P. Keaton on his van," I mumble. "Is it your sister?"

"Nah," he says, chuckling. "She's over at Newton's making out with Em."

"Ewww. Gross."

"You started it."

I stand up and wipe my hand on my jeans. When I look across the room, Alice is sitting at the table in the far back corner – Edward's table. I wave at her and then grab a pot of coffee before heading over.

As I round the corner, the door opens, and Edward walks in.

I stop.

Right in my tracks.

If I weren't so happy to see him, I'd probably be embarrassed. Well, I am a little embarrassed anyway, but he doesn't seem to mind. He just smiles briefly before looking back down.

"Hey," I say.

I wonder why seeing him always reduces me to one syllable words. And then I remember that he's perfect. With gorgeous green eyes and soft lips that I've actually kissed. And oh, my god! I have to stop doing a physical inventory of him while he's standing right in front of me!

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?" I ask. "Not that I'm not happy to see you or whatever, but I didn't know that you were going to come by today."

He laughs, which is good since I need to take this moment to tell myself to shut the fuck up.

"Uhh…yeah…well, I…uhh sort of…" he stammers. "I mean, I sort of saw Alice after school, and she told me she was coming."

"I don't mind."

We stand there looking between each other and the ground for a hundred years before I remember that I'm working. I take him over to the table and he sits down across from Alice.

Alice basically glares at Edward and then smiles at me.

"I told him that _we_ had plans," she says, "but he looked so pathetic I told him he could come, too."

"He's not pathetic," I say in this voice that is far too dreamy to not be anything except humiliating. I don't look at him – I can't. Instead, I quickly straighten myself up and flip the coffee cups on the table over. "Coffee?"

"Perfect," Alice says, while Edward tells me, "Thanks."

"So, what time do you get off?" Alice asks, while I fill their cups.

"In about an hour and a half."

"Great." She throws her bag on the seat in the corner of the booth. "Hey, do you have a bathroom in this place?"

"Yeah. Down the hall on your left."

When she stands up, she winks at me, and promptly rolls her eyes. And I try not to laugh as I turn back to Edward, who is staring at me intently.

It makes me tingle.

It makes me want to go on break and take him outside and kiss him.

But of course, I remember that I'm letting him lead. And hopefully he will lead me to at least second base soon.

I look around and everything seems okay. And I'm pretty sure that Sue can cover the floor for the next few minutes. I sit down right across from him. I want to reach out and touch his hand, but I'm nervous. So, I just place mine on the table in case he decides that he wants to do the same thing.

He does, and I die just a little more. I'm pretty sure if we continue with this…relationship, I'll be dead before I can get the hell out of Forks.

"So?" he asks expectantly.

"Sue's gonna do it."

"Yeah?"

His smile is so genuine that all the butterflies in the world explode in my stomach.

"Yeah."

"So, how long will we have?"

I look around to make sure no one's looking. For a minute, I think Sue is, but she quickly turns her head back to her customer. I'm just nervous and probably imagining things.

"Well, I was supposed to work until ten, so that will give us six hours."

"Really?"

I nod, more excited than I've been all week. And even _I _understand that's saying something.

"And you're okay with…missing work or whatever?"

"Well, I'm gonna pick up her shift on Saturday. Charlie is off anyway, and I wouldn't be able to sneak away while he's home."

He looks around before threading his fingers through mine again.

"I can't wait to see you," he says. "You know…_alone_."

And the way he says it gives me all the hope in the world. I squeeze his hand a little, but then he does something he's never done before. He rubs his thumb back and forth across my palm. It feels almost illicit.

"You're not gonna take me to a cemetery again, are you?"

He laughs. And he's still rubbing my palm.

"No," he says softly. "I was thinking…I mean, I don't know if you'll want to. Well, what I mean is that I was hoping I could bring you over to my house this time. My dad is going to be in Port Angeles with his girlfriend. And we would…you know, have the place to ourselves."

My heart is suddenly pounding in my chest.

I can't breathe.

"All night?"

My voice is small. It doesn't even sound like me.

"All night."

I look at him for a million seconds, wondering if he can feel my pulse inside my hand. His green eyes are darker now – they almost seem _knowing_. I feel myself flush all over. And I know that this time, it's not from embarrassment. This time, it's something more.

"I can't wait."

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Reviews are love.

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I love Marvar more than sneaky ideas that lead to secret dates.

And ILY all, too!


	27. Chapter 27

November 3, 1994

Dear Veronica,

Alice is awesome.

Honestly, I was a little nervous about what Charlie would think of her. You know, because of the way she dresses or whatever. Thank god she didn't wear the pig breastfeeding shirt. And he did (much to my humiliation) ask her why she wore so much makeup. I wanted to crawl under the couch. But she just looked at him and said that she liked her makeup. She also said that she didn't necessarily like his mustache, but that it would be rude for her to point it out.

And you know what?

Charlie laughed.

I haven't seen Charlie laugh like that ever.

After we watched Friends (Which was hilarious by the way. There was a blackout.), Alice and I went into the bedroom. She asked me about my plans with Edward for the following night. I told her what we were doing, hoping she'd be impressed with my masterful plotting. And she told me that I wasn't as criminal as I thought and that sneaking around was a rite of passage as a teenager.

She's probably right about that, but dating is also a rite of passage. Although, I suppose that I AM dating someone. So, basically I'm like a normal teenager now.

Wow.

You know what? I just realized that for the first time in my life, I feel normal. I have a friend who actually came over to my house. I'm dating someone. (Even if it is in secret.) And that's another thing. I don't know what Edward really is to me. You know, besides the man of my dreams. I mean, is he my boyfriend? Or is he just the boy I'm sneaking out with? He's never called me his girlfriend. Although, I suppose it's not something he would just say in normal conversation. Like, "Hey, you know what? You're my girlfriend."

I mean, I **FEEL** like he's my boyfriend. Especially in the sense that I don't want to know or talk to or hold hands with and kiss anyone else. Only him. It's ridiculous how much he consumes my thoughts. But I want to know if that's what he thinks about me. Does he consider me **HIS** girlfriend? Oh, god. I really hope he does. Is it wrong that the label is so important? It's not like anyone can actually even know that we're together. All I know is that it means something to me.

I want him to say it.

In my head, I imagine him looking at me and just saying, "You're the best girlfriend in the world." You know, right before he French kisses me.

I realize that this fantasy makes me possibly the lamest person in the world. But you know what? I'm so happy right now that I don't care.

We have a date tomorrow night. **AT HIS HOUSE**! I'm so nervous and excited and ready to throw up over it all. I mean, the plan is foolproof. Charlie is working all night and Emmett thinks I'm supposed to be working too. He won't expect me to be home until after ten. And Edward is going to pick me up after school.

And then, we are going to be alone.

All night.

**ALL FREAKING NIGHT!**

And I've been thinking about this. (Mostly in the shower.) But we are going to be alone for six hours. He has to really, really kiss me, right? There has to be tongues and licking and possibly sucking. I don't know how you would really "suck" in a kiss, but when I imagine **REALLY** kissing Edward, I'm pretty sure sucking is involved.

Can I tell you something else? I'm also (more than quite possibly) thinking that there might be more to tomorrow night than just kissing. But here's the thing – I don't know what the "more" will actually consist of. I mean, I'm not stupid. I know about making out and stuff. But what if Edward wants to feel my boobs? What if he doesn't? I don't know how I feel about either of those options.

I'm sorry.

That's a lie.

And I told you I would never lie to you.

I totally want Edward to feel my boobs. I hope that doesn't make me a slut. But I really, really want it. I think that it would feel amazing for him to do it while he was kissing me. But then, I wonder about what he might expect in return. I mean, Edward doesn't have boobs. There's not really anything PG-13 to grope on his body. What if he wants me to feel his dick? What if he wants me to suck it like Mike Newton?

Is it bad that I don't know if I'm ready for that?

Is it horrible that sometimes I feel like I might be?

Probably.

Anyway, I need to get some sleep.

Love,

Bella

PS: I forgot to tell you. Emmett met Alice tonight when he got home. He got all embarrassed for some reason. Probably because she was sitting on his bed. God knows how many nocturnal emissions were underneath the blanket. I haven't washed the sheets this week. Gross. I almost made myself throw up just now. Anyway, he didn't make her move or anything. In fact, he just sat down beside her and (sort of) talked to her. It was mostly awkward, but Emmett is awkward sometimes. Wouldn't it be wonderful if she could win over Charlie **AND** Emmett?

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than "The One with the Blackout" episode.

And ILY all, too!


	28. Chapter 28

Edward is waiting for me after school. He's parked back behind the diner and leaning up against his car when I walk around the corner. And damn, he's smoking. He's also wearing the blue flannel shirt I love. Because just the sight of him leaning there wouldn't have been hot enough.

_Oh, my god._

_I will never make it through this night._

"Hey," he says, flicking the cigarette away from him. "Ready?"

I can't help but look around because I'm paranoid that someone (like my dad or Emmett) is watching. They're not, so I offer him a smile that I really hope doesn't look too crazy-excited, and tell him, "Yes."

The drive to his house is fairly quick even though he lives just outside Forks. He _does_ reach over to take my hand, and I let him because it bodes well for all the kissing I hope takes place tonight.

I think.

No, I definitely hope.

His house is pretty big, I notice, as we pull up the long driveway. Like, it's really big. It makes me feel a little self-conscious about our tiny apartment. I mean, our apartment could probably fit inside his garage.

"Wow," I say. I don't really mean to, but seriously, I can't help it.

"I know," he says – but not like he's happy or proud or any of the things that I would probably be if I lived here. But more like he knows it sucks or something.

"You don't like it?"

"No."

He doesn't offer me a reason, and I don't know if I should press him for one. So, I squeeze his hand and look over at him. If he wants to talk to me, he can.

"Okay."

His eyes are softer as he stares at me. He looks less angry – more like the Edward I know. He brushes his thumb over my knuckles and says, "It's just…I's just a lot of space, I guess."

"Is it just you and your dad?"

He nods.

"And you guys don't get along."

"_He_ doesn't get along with me."

I can see tension lines forming on his forehead, and I don't want him to be upset.

"Well, then I guess it's good that he's not here and I am."

"Why? Because you get along with me?"

"It definitely easier to get along with you when we're not in a cemetery," I tease.

He laughs and with his free hand, he reaches over and pushes my hair back off my shoulder. It tickles, but it's a different kind of tickle that goes through my entire body.

Everywhere.

"The cemetery wasn't _all_ bad," he says.

And just like that, I think about our kiss and how good it felt while he held onto me. I lick my lips because I can't really help it, and then I agree, "No…some of it was _really_ good."

I want to see Edward's Cullen's house. Really, I do. But if he keeps looking at me the way he's looking at me now, I'll be more than happy to sit here in his car all night.

"Come on," he says, "I want to take you inside."

When we walk in the front door, I'm pretty shocked at how clean and neat everything is. I mean, not that I expected it to be messy or anything, but it's just Edward and his dad living here. I know that our place would be a disaster if it were just Charlie and Emmett.

The living room is huge with all this open space. And the couch looks really fluffy and comfortable and I kind of want to sit down with Edward and stay there all night. And maybe…

"I thought we could order pizza if you're hungry," he says, pulling me from my potentially slutty thoughts.

"Pizza would be good," I say, "but I'm not really hungry now." _For food_.

He looks at me with a strange expression.

"You're blushing," he tells me. You know, like I can't feel the heat in my cheeks. "Why? What are you thinking about?"

_Oh, you know. Just about the fact that we're here all alone with a couch that looks comfortable and entirely stable enough for two people to say…I don't know…talk or kiss or possibly roll around with each other until we're breathless or whatever._

"Nothing," I lie. Because there's no way I'm telling him _that_.

"Are you sure?" he says. And then he steps in closer, which is absolutely the best and worst thing ever because I can smell him again and also see that his hair looks really freaking soft. And while both those things are nice, they make me want to _do_ things like sniff him up close and run my fingers through his hair and possibly scratch his head.

_And Jesus, I'm a freak._

_I'm a hormonal freak._

I'm like one of those kids that you read about who have no freedom at home, so when they go off to school they just go crazy. They party every night and have sex with entire football teams and fraternities. I'm almost certain Dan Rather did a news report on it.

But I don't _want_ to party.

And I don't want to do _anything_ with _anyone_ who's not Edward.

And while I might want to French kiss him and let him feel my boobs, I definitely don't think I'm ready for anything as big as sex.

"Bella?"

_Oh, crap._

"Yes…no…I mean yes."

"Yes, what?"

I stare at him, trying to remember what he said.

"What…what was the question?"

He moves closer until he'standing right in front of me. He takes both my hands in his and he smiles. I close my eyes and release a really shaky breath. And then I look up at him and wait. I'm honestly not sure if I'm waiting for his answer or for him to lean in and kiss me.

Please, let him kiss me.

"Are you nervous, Bella?"

"No…maybe…a little."

He takes my hands and pulls them behind him until I'm holding him around the waist.

"Don't be."

He leans in close, all spearmint and smoke…and then he kisses me.

Once, soft…

Twice, soft…

Then…on the last press, Edward pulls my bottom lip into his mouth.

And now I know how sucking is a part of kissing.

It's so much better than I imagined.

I also know that after this, kissing will never be the same again.

Neither will I.

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than kisses with sucking.

And ILY all, too!


	29. Chapter 29

"Hey," he murmurs.

I slowly open my eyes and he's staring down at me. His eyes, they look so bright and clear. And my arms are still wrapped around him and I fight the urge to just pull him super close and press my head against his chest.

"Hi."

"Better?"

"Yeah."

Because really, how could I not be better after that? How can everything in the world not be better after Edward Cullen just kissed me like that?

"Come on, I'll show you the rest of the house."

He leads me from room to room downstairs. And as I take in everything, I realize it's beautiful, but also completely empty. I mean, we're practically on top of each other at home. And sometimes I hate it, but for what it's worth, I'm never lonely. And I wonder if Edward is lonely.

"So," I start, "do you have a bedroom?"

_Most stupid question ever._

"You…" He clears his throat. "You, uhh…want to see my bedroom?"

"Well, I mean…only if you want to show me."

The air between us feels awkward. And I wonder what he's thinking because honestly, I can't tell by looking at him.

It's okay," I tell him. "We can just stay down here. I shouldn't have…I shouldn't have asked. I get that it's your personal space or whatever."

"I don't mind," he says quickly. "I just…I didn't know if you would want to go up there."

"Sure. Why not?"

He shakes his head, but he takes my hand and leads me upstairs. We reach a door in the middle of the hall, and he pushes it open.

"So, ummm…this is my room."

I peek around him because I can't really see inside, but he notices and steps out of the way just inside the door. His room is much smaller than I expected because everything else seems so big here. There's a big bed in the center of the room with a dark green plaid comforter. And his bed is made. Which surprises me, honestly. He also has a big dresser on the wall with a book case above it. It's filled with actual books and about a million CDs. And I want to look at the titles of them all. Maybe if I know what he reads and listens to, I'll have some better understanding of him.

"Your bed is made," I tell him, smiling.

And he blushes.

Like freaking crazy.

"Well, uhh…I mean, you were coming over."

"I thought you said you didn't know if I would come up here." He looks away and he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. I can tell he's embarrassed because trust me, I know what embarrassed looks like. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Did you _want_ me to come up here?"

His eyes meet mine and I smile. You know, so hopefully he knows that I'm teasing just a little. And also because I don't want him to be nervous either.

"Maybe."

"Me, too."

And then he smiles. It's kind of amazing how it lights up the entire world.

"Your bed is really big," I say. You know, because I'm stupid.

"Did you want to sit down?" he asks.

I look around again, and there are no chairs.

I repeat. _There are no chairs in his room_.

"On your bed? With you?"

My heart starts pounding. Actually, I think it just continues pounding because I'm pretty sure it hasn't stopped since I first saw him this afternoon.

"We can go back downstairs if you want."

His eyes hold a question…and maybe a hope. I just wish I could tell what they were. But I figure that I can't be any more embarrassed than I already am, so I tell him, "No…we can sit on your bed."

I start to take off my shoes as Edward gets on the bed.

"What are you doing?" he asks, sounding almost panicked.

"Taking of my shoes, so I can get in your bed."

I don't understand his reaction…until I do. And Jesus, I'm mortified. Did he just think I was going to start taking off my clothes?

_Dying._

_I'm dying. _

"Just my shoes," I blurt out. "I mean, they're dirty, and I didn't want to get anything on your bed. I wasn't going to take off my clothes or anything. Oh, god. _You thought I was going to take off my clothes_…"

"Fuck," he whispers.

And I'm torn between my humiliation and the sound of that word coming from his voice. It sounds so, so…naughty. But if he freaked out about me taking off my shoes, he's definitely not thinking anything naughty.

"I'll just put them back on and we can go back downstairs," I tell him quickly.

I grab my shoes and keep my eyes on my feet.

"Bella," he says.

"What?"

"Come here."

"No," I tell him. "I'll just take these and…"

"_Bella, stop_."

And I do.

I stand here…frozen. I don't really know what to think about, so I decide to focus on how the carpet feels really soft under my sock-covered feet. And not my eternal mortification.

Yeah, that's not working.

At all.

"Look at me," he says softly. And when I do, he offers me this apologetic smile. "Come here. Just leave your shoes there and come over here."

I drop my clogs, and they fall to the floor with a soft thud. And I walk over and sit down next to him. But not too close because I don't want him to think I'm just some sex-crazed girl. And how ridiculous is that? I'm a virgin. I've never even masturbated outside the shower. And up until this past week, I've never even really kissed a boy. This is so…_backwards_.

I chance a look at him, and the moment our eyes meet, he takes my hand and slides all the way over next to me.

"I'm sorry…about that," he tells me.

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong."

"Maybe I did," he says, and I don't really understand what he means by that. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah."

"What did…" he starts before taking a deep breath. "What did you want to happen tonight?"

All I can think about is the truth. You know, how I wanted him to tongue kiss me and maybe feel my boobs. And that I also considered the likelihood that I might touch him in some inappropriate way that I may or may not be ready for just yet. And seriously, _is it possible that he can read my mind_?

"What…do you mean?"

"I mean… I don't know. I guess I just don't want to do the wrong thing here, Bella. I don't want to push you too far or make you feel like you have to…"

"Wait," I interrupt. "You think you're _pushing_ me?"

"No, I…"

"Edward…all we've done is kiss," I tell him.

"Yeah, but…" he says, turning toward me. "You're here…and we're alone…and we're on my bed. And I kinda want to know…I don't know…where your head is because I don't want to do the wrong thing. And I definitely don't want to not do the _right_ thing."

"What's the right thing?" I ask softly. Almost afraid of his answer.

"Honestly?"

"I hope so."

"The right thing is whatever _you_ want to do."

I'm almost positive I understand what he's saying, but I have to make sure.

"So, if I wanted to do…_more_… What you're telling me is that you would be okay with that?"

"How much more?" His voice is lower than I've ever heard it.

"I don't know," I tell him. "Can we start with kissing?"

He leans in and puts both his hands on my cheeks. They feel soft and cool against my flaming skin.

"Yes."

_Yes…_

_Yes…_

_Yes!_

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than boys who blush.

And ILY all, too!

Side note: Taking tomorrow off. But I will be back on Monday morning!

Thank you guys for the love. I read each and every review and I adore them all.


	30. Chapter 30

I can't tell you how many times I've dreamed about, thought about, and imagined what _really_ kissing Edward would be like. But I can tell you this – it is nothing, nothing, _absolutely positively nothing_ like what I expected.

This is so much better.

His lips are so soft and wet. Probably because he licked them right before he kissed me. (I'll have to remember that for next time.) But I'm also not prepared for how much I love the way he's cupping my face and stroking my jaw with his thumbs. Almost like he's holding something important…something cherished.

I suppose that in all my longing to really, really kiss him, I focused all my attention on how his tongue would feel inside my mouth. I wondered if he would lick me or just slip it inside. The mechanics of it were really quite daunting. As it turns out, that part is really easy – at least he seems to _make_ it easy. It feels natural to let him just slip it inside and stroke my tongue over and over and over.

And it feels equally natural to let myself do the same.

But the feeling cherished part…yeah, this is better than his tongue. (Even if it's only marginally.)

I could kiss him forever. I realize this now that we seem to be lying down on his bed. I'm not really sure when this happened, and frankly, I'm not altogether certain that I care. What I do care about is how I have to pull away for just a second to catch my breath. And how when I pull away, Edward is panting in my ear and it's wet and breathy. And now, he's moving his lips elsewhere.

Like my chin.

_And oh, my…_

Like my neck.

And _Jesus_, Edward's tongue on my neck might just be better than his tongue in my mouth. And _fuck_, he's sucking my neck now, too.

I can't help it when I grab his shirt. And I definitely can't help it as I pull him closer. Because nothing this wonderful should ever be pushed away. I'm too hot and flushed to be conflicted. Because there is no way this is wrong. Just like there's no way that it's wrong that both his hands are on my butt.

Squeezing.

Yes, Edward is squeezing my butt.

I want to moan.

_Shit_. I think I just did.

And now, he's doing it harder and he's the one that's pulling me closer. And I don't want him to stop, so I just let him because all of this feels so freaking good.

"Bella." The way he says my name just before he kisses my mouth again sounds like… Well, I don't actually know what it sounds like because I have never heard anyone make that sound before in real life.

And he made that sound for me.

And it's sexy as hell.

His hand slips down lower and before I know what's actually happening, he's holding the back of my knee and pulling my leg over his hip and rolling onto his back. And while I can only imagine what this must look like, it doesn't matter because I only care about what it feels like. And right now, it feels like maybe I want to push myself against him.

_And oh, yes_…

This is actually happening.

_And yes, yes, yes_…

I definitely want to be doing this.

His kisses become more intense and grow deeper and with each press of our mouths. And I rub myself against him a little harder which makes him groan. And Edward groaning is sexier than when he says my name. And I'm moaning now, too. And he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he definitely, definitely seems to like it.

But then I feel it – that same feeling I get when I touch myself. It tingles and it feels _so_ good, and I know that if I keep rubbing myself against him like this, I am going to…

_Oh, god._

_What the hell am I doing?_

_I'm using Edward to get off!_

I stop what I'm doing immediately. I can't even look at him because I'm so embarrassed. Embarrassed doesn't even begin to cover the way that I feel.

"Bella?" he asks. "Bella, what's wrong?"

"No…I mean, nothing," I stammer, trying to figure out a way to gracefully get off his lap. And there's no graceful way to actually do that when you're straddling your boyfriend. And _oh, god_…I still don't even _know_ if he's my boyfriend. "Nothing's wrong."

I try to move and end up just kind of tumbling over on his bed. I try to right myself which is impossible since I'm basically flailing like a freak. And Edward is reaching for me. And I let him because I'm pathetic.

"What happened?" he says softly, but I can hear the tension in his voice. "Did I…I mean…I'm sorry…"

And I turn to look at him because I have to. Because how is it possible that any of this is his fault?

And he's a mess.

He's a perfect, beautiful mess.

His hair is all messed up and his lips are kind of puffy and a deeper shade of pink than they normally are.

"Why are you sorry?" I hiss. I don't actually mean to hiss, but I can't help it. "I'm the one who was… And oh, my god…I didn't even know at first. And you were just…and I was just…"

"Bella, slow down." He reaches out and takes my hand. "I shouldn't have pushed you so far."

"What are you talking about? I was the one who was…"

I can't even say it.

There's no way I'll ever be able to say it.

So, I blurt out the only thing I'm capable of saying.

"Are you my boyfriend?"

The look of shock on his face makes me think that maybe I should have come clean about basically humping him to my first non-shower almost-orgasm instead.

"What are you talking about?" he asks. "What do you mean am I your boyfriend? Of course I'm your…" His pause scares me a little, but I watch as he runs his fingers through his hair. He takes a deep breath, and when he looks at me again, his expression is still shocked, but it's softer. "You don't think that I'm your _boyfriend_?"

I look down because I don't really know what to say. So, I just go with the only thing I can. "I mean, well, I…hoped. But you never…we never…" I look up at him and I can feel my cheeks burning off my face. "We never really talked about it."

"Fuck."

When he curses, I panic.

"It's not a big deal. It's just…"

"It is a big deal," he interrupts. "It's a big fucking deal. I just thought you knew."

_Yes, I definitely should have gone with the humping/almost-orgasm_.

"I didn't mean…"

"Bella…just stop." He turns toward me and takes my face in his hands. Like he was before when he was kissing me all soft and sweet. Like he was when I felt cherished. "You're my girlfriend, _okay_? You're definitely my girlfriend."

I don't hear anything anymore.

I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing the moment he said the word _girlfriend_.

And if he kisses me right now, it will be just like my dream.

"Say something," he says.

"Kiss me again."

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than dry humps with hot boys.

And ILY all, too.

PS: I have a new (very adult) story that will be posting tomorrow. _Adult Book Store_. Please check it out if you want.


	31. Chapter 31

"I had a really good time tonight," I whisper.

Edward turns toward me and reaches out to take my hand. It's only just after nine, but he had suggested that maybe we call it an early night. And as much as I hated to agree with him, he was probably right.

"Me, too."

There's a part of me that wonders if he's gonna kiss me goodnight. I definitely want him to, but it's not like he didn't just spend the better part of four hours kissing my face off.

Although, after the whole _incident_ on his bed, he ended up taking me back downstairs.

I didn't even care.

He told me I was his girlfriend.

"Are you sure you're not going to be in trouble?" he asks.

I sneak a look up to my apartment. I notice that the lights aren't on, which is odd since Emmett should be home. But most important, I see that Dad's car isn't home yet either. So, I'm pretty sure I'm safe.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Good." He nods and leans in closer. "Are you sure…you know…about everything else?"

"You mean like all the stuff that happened tonight?"

"Yeah," he says. "That and…you know? Is there anything that you're _not _sure of? Because I just wanna make sure that you're…you know, _clear_ on everything."

His hand is on my neck now and I'm finding it difficult to be clear about anything. But I _am_ clear on what he means.

"I'm clear," I whisper. "_On everything_."

And then he kisses me.

Even though it's nothing frantic like the kisses on his bed or even the ones later on his couch – even though it's simple and sweet with soft presses and licks – I'm breathless when he pulls away.

"I don't think you're bad news at all, Edward."

He laughs this sort of little half-laugh where his eyes crinkle up and I can see the shadows of his dimples.

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"What do you think I am?"

I feel like I want to touch him – like just reach out and run my fingers through his hair. But I don't feel confident enough to do that. Instead, I just tell him the truth. "I haven't figured it out yet. But I'm hoping that maybe you'll tell me soon. You know…if you want to. You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean, you already know everything about me. Even the really embarrassing stuff."

"You know some embarrassing stuff about me," he says.

"It's not the same," I tell him. "And nothing about you is embarrassing."

"Nothing about _you_ is embarrassing, either," he says earnestly. "And you're wrong, you know? You do know something about me. At least, you _should_ anyway."

And I have no idea what he's talking about until I look into his eyes and see his very pointed expression.

_Oh._

"That you're my boyfriend?"

"Damn right."

I grin.

It's probably huge and embarrassing.

And I don't even care.

"I better go."

He nods and lets go of my hand.

"I wish I could walk you up."

"That's okay."

"Maybe eventually."

"Maybe."

_I really hope that's true._

I run up the stairs. Well, I basically float with this stupid smile on my face. I don't even know how I'll be able to control it when I get inside. Thankfully, I'm pretty sure no one's home. Emmett must have been called in to work or something. Mike Newton probably had a blow job he couldn't miss.

_Asshole._

When I open the door, I don't even turn on the light. All I want to do is change and get ready for bed. I walk the familiar path, internally cheering when I don't bang my knee against anything.

I can't help but feel a little bit guilty for lying about what I was doing tonight. But then I remember Edward and the sweet things he said and the way that he kissed me…_with tongue_. There's also the fact that I officially have a boyfriend. And I remind myself that there was no way I would have ever known that had I not gone over to his house. So, I'm fairly certain that all my actions are completely and totally justified.

I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I don't hear any noise coming from the bedroom. But when I open the door, I hear it.

And not only do I hear it, I also see it.

Emmett's there.

On his bed.

On top of…

"_Alice_?"

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than goodnight kisses.

And ILY all, too!

Early update, so Veronica will be back on Wednesday. But hopefully I will see you all for Adult Book Store tomorrow!


	32. Chapter 32

Dear Veronica,

I wanted to be pissed. I mean, seriously, I wanted to be furious. And I kind of still am, to be honest. But how can I really be pissed when Edward and I had been doing basically the same thing? Except that I was the one on top of Edward. And Emmett…

Gross.

I guess I should start over.

After having the best night of my life with Edward, a night where he kissed me repeatedly, (Well, I guess he kind of kissed me non-stop. But that isn't the point right now) anyway, after all that, I came home to find Emmett making out with Alice. I mean, what the hell? Emmett and Alice! I don't even know what to do with that information!

And I had to see it! They were in my room. Thank god they were on his bed, otherwise, I might have had to kill myself. There was a lot of screaming (mostly by me). And then there was this whole awkward moment where I wanted to burn my eyes out while they basically fell off of each other and the bed. And Emmett kept saying he could explain, and Alice kept telling me to calm down. But how do you calm down after that?

**PLEASE, TELL ME HOW?**

**BECAUSE RIGHT NOW, I DON'T KNOW!**

I asked them how long this had been going on. And apparently they were both a little "confused" on their answer.

Alice said that she dropped by the diner to see me, and found out I wasn't working. I guess I forgot to tell her that I had plans with Edward. In my attempt to keep things secret, I didn't tell anyone. Well, Alice told me that I **SHOULD** have told her. That friends aren't **SUPPOSED** to keep secrets like that, and that she could have helped cover for me. Although, she wouldn't have had to cover for me if she hadn't gone to the diner.

And honestly, I think Alice should have been a little more concerned with covering for herself.

So, anyway, she said she came over to my apartment and found Emmett instead of me. This was the part where Emmett interrupted and started speaking. You see, **HE** said that he's been interested in Alice for a while. Of course, it seemed like he was saying that to her and not me. Actually during this part, it seemed like both of them forgot that I was in the room at all.

It was uncomfortable.

But from what I can gather, Emmett has sort of liked Alice ever since he first saw her at school. And Alice said she didn't even know that he was my brother. Which might possibly explain the weirdness when he came in and found her on his bed the other night. I mean, I don't even know what I would do if I came home to find Edward on **MY** bed talking Emmett. I seriously might die of embarrassment. Especially now that I've seen Edward's bed, and you know, rolled around with him in it. (I'll have to tell you about that later.)

I realize that I'm rambling and you probably don't understand anything. I'm going to try to get back on track. I guess the short version of the story is that after Alice showed up at my apartment, she and Emmett started talking. And I guess that at some point this actually led to them doing what I walked in on. I'm trying not to think too much about it. There are some things a sister should never have to see her brother doing. Especially things where her brother's butt is in the air and he's on top of her friend.

But they like each other.

I mean, this is for real.

They really and truly like each other.

I feel torn because Emmett's my brother and Alice is basically the first real girlfriend I've ever had. But while they were busy tripping over each other and apologizing to me, I realized something that I think is pretty crucial.

Why wouldn't they like each other?

I mean, Emmett can be an asshole sometimes, but he's truly one of the best people I know. He's a good guy and he works really hard and any girl would be lucky to have him.

And while I don't know Alice very well at all yet, I kind of adore her already. She's interesting and sweet. And if I adore her, it only seems logical that Emmett would. Doesn't it?

Don't get me wrong.

It's still weird.

But it makes sense.

And that's another thing.

Edward.

I don't know how to say what I feel about him because I don't really know if I could put it into words. I can't just say I like him. Especially not after tonight. And "like" isn't big enough or strong enough. It doesn't completely convey how I feel. And I don't know if I'm ready to say I love him. Honestly, I don't know if I actually do. But my feelings for Edward fall far more on the love side of things than the like side. And if I feel so strongly for him, why can't Emmett at least be reasonable where Edward is concerned?

I'm trying to be reasonable about Alice.

Edward isn't a bad guy. I don't know why Emmett thinks he is. Hell, I don't even know why Edward thinks he is. But I'm going to figure it out.

Emmett owes me.

I should get some sleep now since I'm working all day tomorrow.

Love,

Bella

PS: I didn't even get to tell you about the tongue kiss. IT WAS AWESOME!

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than never having to see your brother in a compromising position.

And ILY all, too.

So, probs not another update until Friday, guys. Sorry. Things are just a bit crazy for me ATM. But thank you so much for reading.

And thank you to the wonderful Jaimearkin for her review of Dear Veronica on The Lemonade Stand. And thank you to everyone who voted.


	33. Chapter 33

I pretty much float through my entire morning shift. I don't even mind when Waylon tells me that I'm the only waitress until lunch. Staying busy is probably a good thing because I can't devote every waking moment to thinking about Edward and remembering the way he kissed me…and the fact that I'm his girlfriend.

Although, I would like to put it on my name badge.

At just after twelve, Emmett comes in. Not strangely enough, Alice comes in five minutes later.

They are so transparent.

So, I decide to take my break and sit with them. I try not to laugh at Emmett's expression when I sit down, but I fail miserably.

"I saw Edward this morning," Alice says in a hushed tone.

I blush at just the mention of his name.

"Oh, really?" I ask. "How was he?"

"He was quiet," she says as she pours a bunch of sugar into her coffee, "which isn't unusual, but there was something that _was_ unusual."

"Oh, yeah?" I say, trying not to sound like I'm desperate to know every single little thing. "What was that?"

"_I don't know_…" She gives me this pointed look. "Maybe the fact that he had a tiny purple hickey on his neck. Actually come to think about it, it wasn't that tiny."

She wiggles her eyebrows, and I want to slide under the table and die. Meanwhile, Emmett looks like he's about to throw up…or spit nails. Honestly, I'm hoping for the first of those two scenarios.

"He…he had a hickey?" I whisper.

"Yeah, he totally did. And when he saw me looking, he covered it with his hand. But that only told me that he knew it was there. He was probably looking at it in the mirror over his morning boner or something."

First of all, I'm dying because we are discussing the fact that I'm apparently some quasi-half-vampire that sucks her boyfriend's blood to the surface of his skin. I'm also pretty upset that I can't even remember doing it. Shouldn't I at least remember sucking him that hard? I mean, I kissed his neck and stuff…and okay, maybe there was a little sucking. _But he sucked my neck, too_! And I don't have a hickey. I'm conflicted as to whether I should be happy or disappointed.

"You gave him a hickey?" Emmett hisses.

"_You_," I hiss, "you do _not_ get to have an opinion on this. Not after…last night."

"_I didn't give her a hickey_!" he replies.

"_Only because I walked in before you could_!"

"Listen," Alice interrupts us both. "I get that you guys are twins and you probably have some super power or something that forces you to share a brain or whatever. And you're my friend," she says, looking at me before turning to Emmett. "And you're my…well, I don't know exactly what you are yet. But I _do_ know that I'm not going to sit here and discuss what we were doing last night with the two of you over lunch. So, I'm gonna need _both of you_ to just shut the fuck up."

Emmett looks down, but I hear him mumble, "She started it."

"So, really…how was he?" I ask Alice.

"Fine, I guess," she says, then takes a drink of her coffee. "Oh, and he gave me something for you." She reaching in her bag and hands me a note. Another note. "I told him that I was going to see you today and he told me to give you this."

I take it and as much as I want to read it right now, I slide it into my apron pocket for later.

"He's passing you notes?" Emmett asks.

"_What is your problem with him_?" I hiss. "Why do you think he's bad news?"

"Wait," Alice snaps, glaring at Emmett. "You told her that Edward was bad news? Why?"

"Because he is, okay?" he huffs.

"Says you," she replies. "And how would you even know what kind of guy he is? You don't even _know_ him!"

"I know enough."

"What is it you think you know, Emmett?" I ask.

"Nothing," he mutters.

"No, really. Tell me. I'd love to know what it is about him that you think is so bad."

Emmett looks at me for a long time and I can't tell what he's thinking. But his expression is worried. Like, _really_ worried. And just for a moment, I wish that we actually did have the super powers that Alice was joking about because I want to read his mind. He looks away from me, his eyes landing on Alice for just a second before he looks down.

"What is it, Em?" I ask. My heart is pounding and I don't even know why. "Tell me."

"Why don't you ask Cullen about the company he kept when he first moved here last year," he says. His voice is quiet but determined. "Better yet, why don't you ask him about all of his extra-curricular activities."

I don't really know what the hell he's talking about, but I know my brother. He's a lot of things, but he's not a liar. Not really. And I don't like the sound of "extra-curricular activities" either. My mind is racing and I'm imagining things like drugs…and sex.

I want to throw up.

I don't want to think bad thoughts about Edward because I'm pretty sure I'm three minutes away from falling hopelessly in love with him. And I can't fathom Edward – who wouldn't even let me stay on his bed because physically, we were moving too fast – doing anything as sordid as drugs or sex. But what do I know? Edward is two years older than me. He probably _has_ done all those things.

The question is whether or not I care.

_Do I?_

_Would that really change anything?_

I decide that it wouldn't.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alice snaps.

"Don't get mad, okay?" Emmett says, looking at me. "Last year I went to a party at Newton's house."

"_You went to a party_?" I hiss.

"Yes, okay? I went to a party. That's not the point," he sighs. "I only went the one time. I worked that night, so by the time I got there, people were already pretty wasted. I only stayed for a few minutes because I realized that if Dad found out, I'd be in trouble. But I remember seeing a guy I'd never met before in the corner. Mike told me he was some college dude that just moved into town…_Cullen_."

"So?" Alice says. "Not everyone's families are pretend Mennonites like yours. Most people go to parties."

Her reasoning makes me feel marginally better, but there's this nagging in the pit of my stomach I can't ignore.

"He wasn't alone," Emmett says, shooting Alice a pointed glance before looking back at me. "I don't know if he was drunk or high, but he was definitely something. He was with one of the girls from school. And…"

"Who was he with, Em?" I ask.

"Lauren Mallory."

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.

Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than giving hot boys hickeys.

And ILY all, too!


	34. Chapter 34

_Everyone has a past._

I say this to myself over and over again as I serve food, pour coffee, and clean off tables.

Everyone – including Edward – has the right to have a past.

Even if his past is suddenly sketchy and whorish and probably has some sort of sexually transmitted disease because his past is now associated with Lauren-_fuck-all-the-penises_-Mallory.

_Everyone has a past._

_Except me._

I don't have a past. I only have the present. I only have a couple of nights of sneaking around to graveyards and empty houses to kiss a boy who has probably done a whole lot more than kissing with other girls.

And I can't even be mad about it.

Can I?

I mean, he didn't even know me then.

Last year.

And based on what he's told me, last year was when he dropped out of college. Last year, he was someone entirely different. He was probably sad or angry or feeling like a fuck up…and he found some sort of _comfort_ with Lauren Mallory at a party.

I don't want to think about the kind of comfort she offered.

It probably came with a side of bodily fluids.

In fact, I think I want to throw up instead.

When I get home, I decide to take a shower. Mostly because I smell like the diner, but also because it's the only place in the apartment that I can be alone. No one ever bothers me in here. As I undress, I feel the piece of paper still inside my pocket.

Edward's note.

I'm caught somewhere between wanting to be mad at him and knowing that I probably don't have the right to be.

I don't want to read it.

But I want to read it immediately.

This is way too much internal conflict for a Saturday afternoon.

So, after standing in the middle of the bathroom for a hundred years, I sit on the side of the tub…naked.

I open the folded piece of paper.

And I read.

_Bella,_

_Did you know that you taste like mint tea with honey?_

_You taste really good._

_Last night was perfect._

_I want to do it again._

_Call me when you get home. If you want._

_Edward_

I read it a million times.

I read it so many times that I am able to recite it to myself (silently) as I shower. I wonder what mint tea tastes like. I've never had it. Charlie is more of a Tetley Instant Iced Tea kind of man. I also wonder what Edward is really thinking about all this…about me.

When I'm finished, I walk into the kitchen and Charlie is at the table.

"I'm going over to Billy's," he tells me. "You gonna be okay for dinner?"

I would laugh at this question. Mostly because it's hilarious that he would think that _I_ wouldn't be okay for dinner. Who does he think cooks around here?

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Is Emmett working?"

He nods.

He stands there for a minute looking at me. And I wonder if he can see everything I've done in the last couple weeks all over my face. Like, I wonder if I wear it like a sign _– Hey, I've been sneaking out of the house with a boy and making out with him while I'm supposed to be working._

"Well, have a good time," I tell him.

I turn and walk to the fridge to get something to drink.

"Hey, Bells?"

"Yeah?"

When he doesn't say anything right away, I turn around to look at him again.

This whole conversation is so weird. In fact, everything about this is weird.

"I was just thinking…"

"About what?" I ask hesitantly, thankful for the first time that Edward didn't give me a hickey.

"I liked…that girl, Alice. You should invite her over again. You seemed… Well, it seemed like you had a good time."

_No, really._

_This is the strangest conversation I've ever had with my father._

"Yeah…umm…I like her, too."

"Okay."

"Okay."

He nods once more before turning and walking out.

I wait twenty minutes before I decide to call Edward. Well, I was always going call him. It just takes me twenty minutes to figure out what I'm going to say. It's completely lame that when he answers, all I can say is, "Hey."

"Bella." He says my name almost like it's a relief. And the way it sounds makes me tingle inside like a stupid girl.

A really stupid girl that isn't a whore with professional blow-job skills.

I think I'm going to be sick again.

_Everyone has a past_, I remind myself a hundred times. _Everyone has the right to have a past._

"You called," he continues. "You got my note?"

"Yeah."

"Is…is something wrong?"

"No…I…" I start, but I don't really know what to say.

I mean, a rush of things flood my mind, but none of them are appropriate to say or ask.

_Why do you like me?_

Or

_Did you have sex with Lauren Mallory?_

Or

_Did you used to use drugs?_

Or

_Did you used to use drugs while having dirty sex with Lauren Mallory?_

No, I can definitely not say any of those things.

Especially the last one. Because if the last one is true, I don't know what I'll do. I don't know how I could even go on if he actually did that. And it's funny that I realize just how ridiculous and melodramatic that sounds in my head. What's not funny is the fact that I know it's absolutely true. And I can't even feel bad about it because I know that a little piece of me would just die with the thought of him kissing and touching that…that whore….the same way he touched me.

And oh my god!

When did I become the kind of person that calls someone a whore?

"Bella?" he says. "Hey, what is it?"

"Do I really taste like mint tea?"

Yes, that's much better.

That is not crazy at all.

His laugh is soothing in a way that I should find embarrassing.

"Yeah…you do," he breathes.

"What's that like?"

"What?" he asks. "The mint tea? Or kissing you?"

"Both."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Well…mint tea is good. You've never had it?"

"No."

"I used to drink it with my mom at night. She would make it for us before we went to bed. It's…" His voice trails off for a minute. "It's sweet and warm and it always made my tongue tingle."

"That's what kissing you is like," I slip.

I hear a whoosh of breath over the phone.

His.

Not mine.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"That's _exactly_ what kissing you is like."

Warmth fills me. It creeps and crawls over my skin. I feel it in the roots of my still-drying hair. I feel it in the way my beating heart seems to speed and slow at the same time.

He does this to me.

He makes me feel this way.

Like nothing else matters.

Not even the past.

But I still need to know.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me anything."

The way he responds without a pause makes me wonder if I should just (like Alice says) shut the fuck up. But I know me. I know this will bother me. I won't be able to move past it. And every time he kisses me, I see her face in my mind. I'll wonder if she was better…I'll wonder if she was _anything_ to him at all. And honestly, the not knowing – that's not something I can handle.

"Did…" I blow out a long breath.

"What?"

"Did you have sex with Lauren Mallory?"

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.

Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than mint tea and tingling tongues.

And ILY all, too!

Thank you so much for reading!


	35. Chapter 35

The moment I ask the question, I wish I hadn't. But it's too late to take it back now. So, I sit here…waiting. And all I get is silence from his side.

I begin to panic.

He definitely, definitely had sex with her.

I'm back to not knowing if I should cry or throw up.

Maybe both.

And now I have to deal with hanging up. Because there is no way I can sit here on the phone with him while I cry. I should have just kept my mouth shut.

"I…umm…" I stammer.

"Bella," he interrupts.

"Yeah?"

"Can you get away for a little while?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure this isn't a conversation we should be having on the phone."

_Oh, god._

_Oh, god._

_Oh, god._

He did. He totally had sex with Lauren-freaking-Mallory.

"Well, umm…my dad is actually gone, and I have the apartment to myself."

"I'll be over in a few minutes," he says. His voice is quiet, and I don't really know how to interpret that. I mean, he could be quiet because he's angry that I asked. Or maybe he's quiet because he actually did and he doesn't really know what to say.

"You can just tell me," I say.

_Please, for the love of god. Just tell me already._

"Shit," he curses. "I'll be right there."

And then I hear the dial tone.

While I wait for Edward to get here, I basically walk in a circle in the small living room. I don't know that I've ever had a panic attack before. But I'm fairly certain that I'm having one now.

I stop and look out the window.

He's not here yet.

I take a moment to try and figure out exactly where the panic is coming from.

Is it because he had sex with her?

Is it because I feel like this might be some sort of deal-breaker?

Would I feel this way if he'd done it with someone else?

_Yes, yes, yes to all of those things._

Except for maybe the deal-breaker part. Because at just the thought of ending whatever we have makes my heart hurt. Like, it literally clenches and seizes up. And for just a moment, I wonder if this is how my dad felt after all the crap with Renee.

No.

Edward didn't cheat on me.

He didn't even know me then.

So, whatever I am feeling right now (which might possibly be the absolute worst thing I've ever felt in the entire world) is still better than what my dad must have gone through.

And now, I feel really bad for my dad.

It's funny how thinking about someone else can actually calm you. I'm practically breathing normally and my heart doesn't feel like it's going to explode at any moment.

That is until there's a knock at the door.

I take a million deep breaths and walk to the door. I didn't even think about changing into something nicer, but it's too late for that now. When I open the door, he's standing there. His hair is a mess and his eyes are really intense. I find myself searching his neck for the hickey Alice said I gave him before I realize just how stupid I am for even thinking about that right now.

"Edward," I say. Mostly because I don't really know what else to say. I stand here, my hands clasped together and squeezing my fingers so hard that it hurts.

"Can I…can I come in?"

"Yeah," I tell him. "Of course."

He looks at me for a long time before walking in past me. At first I think he's going to sit at the kitchen table, but he goes into the living room and sits down on the couch. His elbows are on his knees and his head is in his hands. None of this looks good, so I brace myself and walk over and sit down next to him.

"You didn't have to come," I mumble. "You could have just told me."

"That's not something you talk about on the phone, Bella."

He says this like it's something I should just know.

"I'm sorry," I snap. I don't snap because I'm angry, but more because I'm nervous. "I didn't know. Maybe you should have provided me with the instruction manual of things I'm allowed to ask my boyfriend on the phone."

His expression softens. "I'm sorry. That's not what… I mean, you can ask me anything. I just…I don't know. I wasn't expecting you to ask me _that_."

"Well, I did," I say. "And you still haven't answered me."

He turns until he's fully facing me. I can tell that he's thinking, but once again, I have no idea what's going through his mind. He could be thinking about how to break it to me. Hell, for all I know, he could be remembering what it was like to actually do it with her.

_Please don't let him be thinking about that._

"Can I ask you a question first?" he says hesitantly.

_No._

"Okay."

"Why are you asking me this?"

I blow out a long breath. "Because Emmett told me that he saw you with her at a party last year. He said that you looked…_high_," I glance up at him. "or maybe drunk or something. And he said that you guys looked…close."

Honestly, I can't remember exactly what Emmett said, but that's close enough to the truth I think.

"And you just believed him?"

"No…yes…no, wait. Are you saying he was lying?"

"No. I'm asking if you thought that what he said was true."

"I mean…I don't know," I tell him. My voice is shaking and I hate myself a little. "I didn't want to think about it at all, you know? But I couldn't _stop_ thinking about it. And then I read your note and I got all confused because I really like you, Edward. A lot. And I'm trying so hard to find the balance between who you are with me, and who you are to everyone else. Including yourself. Because both you and Emmett have told me that you're not a good guy. And I figured that it was probably best to just ask. Because I sort of feel like it's…it's something I should know. You know…if you had sex with her."

I suck in a deep breath.

I really didn't mean to say that much.

I'm looking down at the plaid print of the sofa cushion like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

It's not.

"Would it matter if I had?" he asks.

I swallow. Loudly. Like a hundred times.

I decide that the only thing I can be is honest.

"Maybe."

There. I've said it. I've said it and I mean it.

"Is it just the sex that would matter? Or is it only sex with Lauren Mallory?"

I have to think about this question. Even though I already know the response. Again, I go with honesty.

"It would matter if it was Lauren."

"Why just her?"

"I guess I kind of assume you've already had sex. I mean, you're older. You've been to college. I don't know," I tell him. "But if it was with her, it would be…_difficult_."

"Why?"

"Because she's _nothing_ like me," I tell him. "Or really…I guess that _I'm_ nothing like her. I haven't kissed every boy in my high school. Or had sex with more than half of them. So if that's…I don't know…what you were attracted to…"

He reaches out and takes my hand. I let him because I want to. And also because inside, it feels like it might be the last time.

"I didn't have sex with Lauren Mallory, Bella," he says.

Relief – it courses through me so fast and hard it almost makes me dizzy.

"You didn't?"

"No," he says. "But I was probably drunk at that party when your brother saw me. And she could have been with me. I remember her, but we never had sex. "

"Really?"

"I was…I was fucked up back then. And I _have_ had sex, Bella."

"With who?" I blurt it out before I can stop myself. "I'm sorry. I mean…I would tell you mine, but I don't have any."

He laughs. It's small and tense, but it relaxes me just a little.

"A girl I met in college."

I nod. I expected this, so it doesn't burn as much as the possibility of Lauren.

"Was she…I mean…what was she like?"

"She wasn't like you."

He reaches out and touches my hair. He pushes it away from my face.

"I don't…I don't know what that means," I whisper.

And then he kisses me.

Softly, softly, sweetly.

And I let him – I enjoy it – because it's Edward.

And I think I'm falling in love with him.

"It means…" he whispers against my lips, "it means that there is no one else like you. And I wish I would have waited."

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.

Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than not having sex with Lauren Mallory.

And ILY all, too!

Thank you for reading my words!


	36. Chapter 36

November 5, 1994

Dear Veronica,

I think I'm in love with Edward Cullen.

To be honest, I think I've been in love with him for a while. Forever maybe. And I know that's not even possible, but that's exactly how I feel. God, I'm such a loser.

He was here for a couple hours. It was just me and him. And after we talked (about the fact that he didn't have sex with Lauren Mallory), we stayed on the couch kissing.

We kissed forever.

Just kissing this time. There was no groping or inappropriate humping like at his house. There was no wondering if he was going to feel my boobs or if he wanted me to do anything to him. It was almost like – I don't know – like, I knew he wanted to do those things, but he was happy just to be there with his lips pressed against mine.

The rest of that stuff will come eventually. I hope.

Alice called and invited me to spend the night at her house, and I really want to go. She said that we were going to watch Reality Bites. And I definitely want to see that. That guy (I can't think of his name) is pretty hot. Even if he does look a little dirty and greasy.

I tried calling Dad at Billy's, but his son, Jacob, answered and said that Charlie wasn't there. I could have sworn that he said that he was going to Billy's. But I guess I was wrong.

Anyway, it didn't matter. He called a few minutes later to check in. He said he would be late coming home. I wanted to ask him where he was, but I thought it was more important to get him to agree to let me go to Alice's. And you know what? He did. He totally did with no questions asked. And he is ALWAYS all about the questions.

Strange.

Actually, come to think of it, everything has been strange about Charlie today.

I suppose I should just be happy that he seems distracted. Because if he wasn't, I would probably have already been busted by now. But I've been thinking about that, too. Ever since I told Emmett to tell him about me and Edward, I've sort of decided that nothing bad can really happen from him knowing. I mean, what would he actually do?

He wouldn't make me quit my job.

And there's not really anything else he could take away from me.

I think that maybe I should just sit down and talk to him again. Especially if Emmett and I do it together. I think that there's no way he can say no to both of us. And I seriously think that we can make him see reason.

Anyway, Alice is on her way. I'll tell you all about it when I get home tomorrow! This is my first official sleepover ever. I don't even know what to bring.

Love,

Bella

PS: I wonder if it's too soon to be in love with Edward. And even more than that, I wonder if he feels the same way for me. It seems like he does, but I just don't know. It's not like I have anything to compare it to. I guess I will (once again) follow his lead. I mean, I'm definitely not saying it first. Even if I was a millisecond away from possibly telling him while he kissed me today.

Although, I suppose that could have been the enormous relief I felt from knowing he hadn't touched or been anywhere near Lauren Mallory's vagina.

Gross.

Yes. I'm definitely going to wait for him.

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.

Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than soft kisses on an old couch.

And ILY all, too!


	37. Chapter 37

Alice and I are sitting on a tree stump in her back yard. She's smoking like a half a pack of cigarettes while I watch the smoke disappear into the cold, wet air.

"Why do you guys do that?" I ask. "I'm not judging…just wondering."

"What? Smoke?" she says, blowing a cloud of smoke directly at me. "I don't know. I like it, I guess. I like the way it makes me buzz all over."

"You get like high or something?"

"Not the way you're thinking," she laughs. "It's stimulating and soothing at the same time."

"You sound like an advertisement," I tell her. "Why do yours smell different than Edward's? They're sweeter or something."

"Mine are cloves," she says. "Wanna try?"

"No." I shake my head. "Well…I don't know…maybe?"

She shakes one out of the small red pack and hands it to me. I hold it in my hand awkwardly until Alice shows me how to hold like a "normal person." After she lights it, I hold it between my index and middle finger and ask, "How do I smoke it?"

"Suck and breathe," she says, showing me. "And then blow."

It looks almost easy watching her do it. And I know I've totally got this. So, I suck. It's the breathing part that I have trouble with. And I definitely don't get to blow because my lungs are burning and have exploded and I'm coughing like I'm dying.

Seriously, I'm coughing so hard that I can't even feel the hand that's currently pounding me on the back.

Wait.

Someone's hand is pounding me on the back. And it's not Alice because she is still looking at me with her giant _Precious Moments_ eyes that are larger than usual right now.

"Fuck, Alice," Edward's voice hisses behind me. "You let her smoke?"

His hand starts rubbing me firmly, which is much nicer than the pounding. I can breathe now. And now that oxygen is getting to my brain, I realize that Edward is here.

What the hell is Edward doing here?

"Give me that," he says, taking the cigarette from my hand and throwing it onto the lawn. "Are you okay?"

"What are you doing here?"

"What? Are you not happy to see me?"

He grins.

"No." I blush, turning to look at Alice before bringing my eyes back to his. "I'm…always happy to see you. But I didn't know you were coming."

"You're welcome," Alice says, standing up. "I'll be gone for a while. I think there's a tent or some rope or some Timberland boots I need from Newton's." She winks. "Don't worry Bella. Mom is with Edward's dad tonight. You guys have the place to yourself till I get back. I'll be back later."

And with that, she walks around to the front of the house and disappears. A few seconds later we hear her car start.

"Hi," Edward murmurs.

"Hi."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I nod. And just like that, his hand reaches under my hair and touches my neck. He rubs it softly, and even though it's warm, it still makes me shiver.

And then he kisses me.

This kiss is a lot like the kisses from earlier on my couch, but this time, there's no underlying apology. This time, it's all about him just being close to me. You know, with his hands and his lips. And now, there's always tongue. And it's soft and slow…and seriously, how is kissing him always, always this perfect?

"Wow," I breathe.

I can feel him smile against my lips.

I smile right back.

"That's never a bad thing to hear your girlfriend say after you kiss her."

He kisses me quickly three more times, and then he pulls back to look at me. I wonder if I look as fuzzy as I feel. I'll never grow tired of hearing him call me his girlfriend.

He sits down on the stump and pulls me in his lap. I don't really know what to make of all this physical affection. I mean I know that I like it. And I know that I never want him to stop.

But then he looks at me. It's all serious and deep, and I wonder what he's thinking. But the truth is – I know. It's written all over his face. I don't have to wonder. And I realize – possibly not for the first time – that Edward feels exactly how I feel. He doesn't have to say it, and more importantly, I don't have to ask.

"I love…_that_," I whisper.

I catch myself – I almost choke on the words.

I was almost going to tell him that I loved him.

Seriously.

Without a single thought about it.

He regards me; his eyes search my face.

"What?" he says. "What do you love?"

I blush.

Madly.

"When you call me your girlfriend."

He wraps his arms around me. "Well, you are."

I nod my head and lay it on his shoulder.

"I can't believe we have more time alone."

"This must be our lucky day."

We sit there like that for a long while. We don't really say much of anything, but the silence between us is so comfortable now. It's starting to get grow darker when Edward asks me, "What are you planning to do next year?"

"I dunno," I say. "I guess I'll go to college. I mean, I _have_ to go to college."

He's quiet for a while.

"Do you know what you want to do?" he asks. "I mean…at school? What you want to study?"

"I haven't really thought about it much, you know. I've mostly just been focused on getting out of Forks. I guess I can decide later, though."

"So…getting out of Forks is important to you."

He doesn't ask it like a question, but I feel the need to give him an answer.

"Yeah…it is," I tell him quietly. "I don't know…you know, everything about your situation with your dad, but as you can probably tell, my situation's not all that great. Don't get me wrong, I love my family. Emmett…even Charlie." I want to turn around to look at him, but I find that just leaning against him and looking out into the woods beside the house is easier. "But I want something…better, you know? Something more. I don't really know what that is, but I know it doesn't include sharing a room with my brother. Something that doesn't include working at a diner all day. And I know I'll never have any more than that here."

He takes a deep breath and I can feel it against my hair as he slowly blows it out. He doesn't say anything, and that's okay. I'm not asking him to.

"My mom died the summer before I went to college," he says after a long while. "I…struggled. I couldn't handle school. At all. I thought it would be easier to just come home. Only my dad moved his practice to Port Angeles from Seattle. I guess it was easier for him to carry on with his life. To just…I don't know…push through. I couldn't do that. So, when I moved here, I did a lot of things I wasn't proud of. I thought if I was drunk or high…I could forget. But I couldn't."

I turn around in his lap to face him. He pulls me close, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I breathe him in. His scent is always the same. And I love it. I crave it.

"I'm sorry about your mom," I tell him. I place a kiss right over the mark that I gave him the night before. "I lost my mom, too." I don't tell him how. It doesn't seem important right now.

"I'm sorry, too," he says. "For both of us."

I hold him close. I don't know if he's crying, but I don't think so. I'm not. All I can think about is how I want to make him feel better. How I want him to see himself the way I see him. Sweet and quiet and perfect and lovely.

Because underneath everything, he is so, so lovely.

"I think he wishes I was more focused...stronger," he says. "We fight a lot…about a lot of things. But mostly I just think he wishes I was more like him. And the truth is – I'm _never_ going to be like him."

"What do you want to be?"

"I want to be good enough for you."

I pull back because I need to see his face. And he needs to see mine.

"You are."

He kisses me again. Only it's not really like a kiss – just his lips pressed against mine as we breathe in the air between us.

"Not yet," he whispers. "But I swear to god, Bella…I promise you, I will be."

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Reviews are love.

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	38. Chapter 38

I'm on the couch with Edward when Alice walks in – and right behind her is Emmett.

Edward's body goes stiff and he tries to release my hand, but I stop him. Emmett looks over at both of us, and before he can say anything, I tell him to keep his thoughts to himself. He nods, and Alice pulls his hand and leads him to the love seat.

We all sit there in silence. And it's awkward, but I don't care. I'm not going to be the first one to say anything. After all, he's here, too. And he has to room to speak.

"So," Alice says with what I can only assume is mock-enthusiasm. "Are we all ready to play spin the bottle?"

I gasp.

Emmett looks horrified.

But when I look at Edward out the corner of my eyes, he's laughing silently.

"That's gross," Emmett says.

"That was kinda the point," she tells him flippantly. "Jesus, you guys really are like Mormons."

Ignoring her, I ask, "What are you doing here? Won't Dad wonder what you're doing? Where you are?"

"Nah," he says. "I told him I was going to Newton's after work. He didn't even question it."

"Oh," I say, remembering how strange he'd been earlier. "Has he been…I don't know…kinda weird lately?"

"He's been weird our whole life," he says.

And just for a moment, I feel like maybe we shouldn't talk about this in front of Edward and Alice. Like, I should feel embarrassed or something. But the feeling of Edward's hand wrapped around mine reminds me that I don't have any secrets with Edward anymore.

Especially after tonight.

He knows everything.

And the truth is – I realize now that my family isn't the only fucked up family in the world.

There's something comforting about that.

"So, really…what do you guys want to do?" Alice says.

"We could watch Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman," Emmett says, grinning.

"If you tell me you watch Dr. Quinn, I'm breaking up with you right now."

"Ah, don't be like that," he says, wrapping his huge arm around her tiny body. "And you can't break up with me if we aren't officially a couple. Are you saying you're my girl?"

I can't watch anymore – even if it is making me really happy to see Emmett happy. But I do lean over and lay my head on Edward's shoulder.

"Are you _my_ girl?" he whispers.

"Yeah," I whisper back. "I'm pretty sure that was a foregone conclusion a while ago."

"Pre or post graveyard?"

"Pre."

I forget about everything else – you know, like the fact that my brother who has historically-questionable feelings about Edward is sitting across from us – and I kiss him.

We kiss a lot.

And I don't care.

And I also never really want to stop.

Unfortunately, Alice interrupts. "Hey, why don't we let the guys get…I don't know…get to know each other," she gives Emmett a pointed look, "and you and I can make some snacks while they pick out a movie for us to watch."

"Oh, umm…okay," I nod.

Edward squeezes my hand one last time before I stand up.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" I whisper as soon as we're out of earshot.

"They'll be fine," she says. "They're going to have to start getting along eventually."

I nod – even though I don't know that's entirely possible.

"So you and Emmett…" I hedge.

"Yeah," she says, smiling. "I know it seems…strange. But I like him a lot. I hope you're okay with that."

"I mean, it was weird at first, but I get it," I tell her. "Em's a good guy."

"He is," she says. "He makes me laugh."

She laughs a little and her cheeks turn pink – almost like she's remembering some secret I'm not privy to. I don't ask her about it.

"And you…you don't mind about the whole…situation with our dad?"

"Nope," she says. "I mean it's weird, but Emmett told me about what happened with your mom. And that's all kinds of fucked up." She looks contrite for a moment. "I'm…I'm really sorry that happened to you guys. And I hope you're not mad that he told me."

"Nope," I tell her, shrugging. "It happened a long time ago."

"Your dad will come around, Bella."

"I don't know," I tell her. "I hope so. But even if he doesn't, I only have eight more months that I have to put up with it."

While we're in the kitchen, Alice is making pizza rolls and I'm pouring Tostitos in a big bowl. I inadvertently scratch my eye, and it starts to sting and burn.

"Oww!"

"Are you okay?" Alice asks.

"I'm fine," I mutter. "I think I just got some salt or something in my eye. I'll be right back. I need to rinse out my contact."

"Okay."

When I get to her bedroom and open my bag, I realize I've left my contact solution and case at home.

Damn.

"Alice," I call out, "do you wear contacts?"

I check again – just in case. Nothing.

"No, why?"

"I left mine at home."

A couple seconds later, Edward and Emmett are both at the door.

"I'm gonna have to run home to get it," I tell them. "I have to have it."

"I'll take you," Edward says.

I smile at him.

"What if Dad's home?" Emmett asks.

"I'll tell him Alice brought me. He doesn't need to know."

Emmett looks uncomfortable, but he nods his head.

"Don't worry," I say. "It will be fine."

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.

When we pull in at the apartment, I tell Edward, "I'll be right back."

He kisses me quickly.

"Hurry."

I notice Charlie's car in his spot, so I know he's home. I expect him to be in the living room when I walk in, but he's not.

_Perfect._

He's already gone to bed.

I quickly go to the bathroom to get my stuff. After I clean my contact and flush out my eye, I head out to leave. When I close the door, Charlie walks out of his room. He's only in his boxers – _awkward_.

"Hey, Dad," I say calmly. "I forgot my contact stuff, so Alice brought me home to get it."

I hope the lie sounds easier than it feels.

He looks tense. Although, it's entirely possible that it's my own tension. I always feel like I'm seconds away from being discovered. And I know that I just need to be honest with him.

_Tomorrow._

I'll sit down with him tomorrow.

"I'm just gonna…"

I haven't even finished my sentence, when Sue Clearwater walks out behind him.

Wearing his shirt.

Only his shirt.

Everything in the word stops…except for my voice.

"_Are you fucking kidding me?"_

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	39. Chapter 39

"Bella," Charlie starts, but I'm already pushing past him.

"No." I keep my head down – which is a mistake because all I can see are their naked legs. My dad is _naked_ with a woman I work with. "_No, no, no, no,_ _no_!"

"Charlie, go. Talk to her." I hear Sue urge him.

I spin around on my heel, seething with all the pain and angst and animosity I've kept inside for the last ten years. "I don't _want_ to talk to him!" I seethe. And it's possibly the most stupid thing I've ever said because the moment I say it, I just start yelling every single word I can think of. "How could you…what are you…how could you do…this? How? After _everything_ you've kept us from doing? How could you just go around having secret sex and being a liar who lies all the time?"

_Yes_, I think to myself. _He's a liar!_

It might possibly occur to me that I have been doing all those things, too. _Except for the sex_. But I have been forced into my behavior. _By him!_

"Bella," he says sharply. But I can see that his brown eyes are scared. And the truth is – I'm scared. I'm scared because I've never been this angry! "Calm down. I will be happy to talk to you about this, but I am an adult. And what I choose to do with my time is my business."

"Oh, that's just perfect," I snap. "You're an adult. And I suppose that you're implying that I'm not? Is that the case?"

He looks stunned.

Good.

He needs to look stunned.

"Do you know what, Charlie? I worked eight hours today! How many kids do you think work eight hour days?" He says nothing, so I just continue. "None that I can think of. Except for me and Emmett. And not just today – it's every fucking day!"

_Yep._

_I totally said "fuck."_

_And I don't _fucking_ care._

"Yeah, you're an adult," I go on. "Well, Charlie…_I'm_ an adult, too! I have _been_ an adult since the moment I started washing the laundry and cooking the meals and cleaning the house! _I'm a fucking adult_. And you have never once treated me like one."

More silence from his side, while Sue just stands there wrapped in Charlie's shirt.

And then it hits me all over again – they just had sex.

In his bed.

On his sheets.

And now, I'm even more furious than before.

"Tell me something, Charlie," I say. My voice is low and sounds like I just swallowed shattered rock. "Were you going to tell me you had sex in your bed _before_ you let me wash the sheets?"

Sue gasps.

Charlie goes completely pale.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Nice, Charlie. Really nice. You know what? I can't even look at you right now…anymore…I don't know."

Inspiration strikes, and I run past them into my room. I slam the door. Lord. I mean, it's really loud and hard. The wall shakes. I lock the door behind me and I go to my dresser. I get out my burgundy bank book and a clean pair of underwear. I shove both of them into my pockets. And then I remember – Veronica. I go to my bed and lift up the corner of the mattress and pull her out. I take a million deep breaths.

While I'm breathing and crying and trying to decide what the fuck I intend on doing, I can hear their voices through the thin walls.

"_You have to talk to her, Charlie. She's upset, but she'll come around."_

She's wrong.

I won't.

"_I told you we should have been honest with them a long time ago."_

He wasn't.

Asshole.

"_I know."_

And all of this is too much. I can't be here anymore. I can't stay here – not when I know what's been going on behind my back. So, steeling my nerves, I unlock and open the door.

I don't even look at them as I walk past.

"Bella, where are you going?" Charlie asks.

"I'm leaving."

"No," he says firmly. "I think…I think you need to stay."

This sends me over the edge.

Completely.

Turning once more, I say, "You think you can stop me? Really, Charlie? You think you're in any position to stop me? I can't believe you. I can't…I can't even begin to tell you how fucked up all this is."

And then I laugh.

It's kind of crazy and liberating and more than a little over the top.

"I guess I don't have to tell you," I say. "I'm not the one standing here in my underwear."

And with that, I walk out the door.

I slam that one, too.

Just because I can.

I run down to the car feeling free and scared and possibly insane. I open the door and hop inside.

"Bella, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" His voice is so soft and filled with concern. And to be honest, I didn't even realize I was still crying.

"Drive," I tell him.

"Bella, what happened?"

"_Just drive_!"

And you know what? He does. He just goes without another word. He doesn't say anything for a while. But he does reach over and take my hand. And for now, that's enough. It's soothing and comforting and exactly what I need right now.

I'm crying.

But as we drive, I realize I'm also determined.

A plan is forming.

Yes, I definitely have a plan.

At some point, he veers of the main road and pulls off to the side. He turns to face me, and at first he doesn't say or do anything. But then he just reaches out and touches my face. And Edward Cullen - the man of my dreams – wipes away my tears.

I'm overcome.

I'm absolutely hopeless.

But that's not really the truth because right now, as he looks as me, I have more hope than I've ever had. He knows me. He knows all my fucked up shit. And I know his. And none of it – absolutely none of it – matters.

"I love you," I blurt out. He looks stunned – his green eyes wide in the moonlight. "And I'm not telling you this because I need you to say it back. I'm telling you because it's the truth. And I just…I just needed to you to know."

And then I burst into tears again. Because even though what I said was true, I really do want him to feel the same way.

"Hey," he says, "you know…you know I love you, too, right?"

And with that – his perfect, perfect words – I'm crying all over again.

He pulls me into his arms, and I mostly sob into his flannel shirt. I also smell him – because regardless of everything that seems to be happening – he always smells really good.

"I've never said that to anyone before," he says. "Well, not anyone except my mom. And my dad a long time ago. But I'm pretty sure the girl isn't supposed to cry. At least, I hoped she wouldn't."

"I'm not crying about that," I tell him. "Well, I am, but not for the reasons you're thinking. You really love me? Like, for real? Like, you're not just saying that because I said it, right? Because that would just kill me a little and I've already died enough tonight. "

"I'm saying it because I mean it, Bella," he says. "I've felt this way for a while now."

Warmth covers me – it surrounds me with his arms. I feel safe. I feel like possibly - because Edward loves me – everything might be okay.

"Good," I tell him. "Because I'm going to ask you something, and you might think it's crazy. You might think _I'm_ crazy."

"Hey, I would _never_ think you're crazy," he tells me. And I can hear it in his voice – he _means_ it. "You can ask me anything."

"I'm leaving," I tell him. "Right now…tonight. I'm…I just…I can't stay here anymore. I can't go home – not ever again. Things are just…it's bad. It's fucked up. It's too much for me to take anymore. And I have some money. I have my savings. It's not a lot, but it's enough. And…and…I want you to come with me."

His expression never changes. Except for his eyes. And I can see all the thoughts that must be running through his mind.

"That's not a question," he whispers.

His heart is pounding. I feel it against my chest. Mine is pounding, too. So hard and fast, I can barely stand it.

"It is if I ask you to come with me," I say. "Will you come with me, Edward? Run away with me tonight. Right now."

A million seconds pass and I just know he's going to say no. But still I wait…holding my breath…clinging to the possibility that he might just say yes.

He doesn't.

Instead, he says, "Where are we going?"

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Reviews are love.

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	40. Chapter 40

The motel room is clean. That's about all I can say for it. But honestly, for as relieved as I am to be here, it could be filthy and I probably wouldn't care.

I don't have any bags – not even a backpack. And I push back the thought that I didn't think this through. Emmett and Alice don't even know where we are. We are literally running away.

It's scarier than I expected it to be.

We stopped just past Port Angeles. And Edward wouldn't let me pay. In fact, he wouldn't even let me go in while he got the room. He said something about the fact that I was underage. I don't know. I wish I'd been listening more.

He looks at me.

And I fight the urge to fall apart again.

"You okay?" he asks.

I shake my head, but tell him, "Yes."

I don't know which answer he believes.

I don't know which answer _I_ believe.

"Come here."

And now I'm in his arms again. And he's holding me close and whispering words about how everything is going to be fine.

"Is it?"

"Yeah."

"Promise?"

"I do."

There's one small double bed in the room. It's covered with a rust colored blanket. I think it's chenille. I'm not sure. Honestly, I'm too nervous to walk over and touch it to see. _Isn't that crazy?_

"One bed," I say softly.

"Is that…" He breathes in. He breathes out. "Is that okay?"

I pull back and look up at him. Even in the low light of this cheap room, he is still perfect. He's _been_ perfect since I slammed the passenger door to his car several hours ago.

This time, I nod my head, and tell him, "Yes."

Both answers are correct.

"We don't have any clothes," he says.

He blushes, and I do, too.

"I have panties," I say, remembering that they're stuffed inside my pocket.

I pull them out and immediately wish I hadn't.

Edward was never supposed to see my plain white cotton panties. But the way he's staring at them makes me wonder if he doesn't mind them at all.

"Oh, god," I say, shoving them back inside. "I'm sorry."

He laughs – it's nervous and perfect and lets me know that he's probably just as anxious and scared as me.

"Why are you sorry? For bringing panties?"

"No," say. "For…I don't know…for just like pulling them out and showing them to you."

His hands slide down my back slowly. He pulls me even closer. But before I can settle my head against his chest, he tells me, "I don't mind seeing your…panties."

I gulp. A lot. It's more like I swallow convulsively – almost like I'm having a seizure.

"I don't know what to say to that."

"Don't say anything," he says. "It's just the truth."

"I don't know what to say to that either." Awkwardly, I pull away. "I think…I'm gonna go take a shower."

I walk into the tiny bathroom. There's little bottles of Suave shampoo and a small bar of Ivory soap on the counter. I quickly shut the door and turn on the water. I undress and try to calm my beating heart.

While I stand under the spray, I have a silent conversation with myself, ticking off things I need to keep in mind.

_Edward would never ask me to do anything I'm not ready to do._

_I love him._

_I am the one who made the decision to run away._

_I am the one who asked him to come with me._

_I love him._

_Edward loves me. _

_He said the words. _

_He meant them._

_I told Charlie that I was an adult._

_Adults aren't scared of rooms with one bed and panties._

_I am not scared of sharing a bed with Edward_.

I keep repeating the list until I'm calm. I step out of the shower and dry off with a towel that's surprisingly soft. I look at myself in the mirror. My skin is pink all over and my eyes aren't as puffy as they were when we arrived.

There's cinnamon toothpaste on the counter, but no toothbrush. I smear some on my finger and do the best job that I can cleaning my mouth. And then, I pull the clean panties from my pocket and I put them on along with my shirt. I fold everything else and place them on the counter. I hold my breath and walk back into the room.

I've never felt more naked.

And then I see him – he's on the bed. The blanket is covering his legs up to his waist. He's not wearing a shirt. And just like that…

I've never felt more certain.

His eyes follow the length of my body. My legs…my chest…my face. I blush, and then I quickly crawl onto the bed, covering myself, and sliding next to him.

"You're so pretty," he says. "I know that's probably not the right thing to say right now. And I know you're probably scared and worried and stressed the fuck out, but…it's true. You're so pretty. And I just…I just wanted you to know that, okay?"

"You too."

I lean my head on his shoulder. I try not to think about the fact that I am touching his naked skin.

"You're really warm," he says. "I like the way you feel."

I don't look at him when I whisper, "I don't think…I mean…I don't think I'm ready to do anything tonight."

"Good," he tells me. "I don't think you're ready either."

I feel myself melt and relax completely against him.

"Are you…ready?"

"That depends on if you're asking me…or my…"

I grin.

"Different answers?"

"Maybe."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yeah," he says, his voice is really low and husky.

Jesus.

"I think that me and my…" I start. I lick my lips. "Well, I think that it's the same for me."

He shifts and I wonder why he moves, but he reaches over and turns off the lamp. He pulls me back against him and covers us up with the blanket, and we both settle in the bed, silent for a long while.

"Bella, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah," I nod my head against his chest.

"How much money do you have?"

It's a legitimate question. Especially if we're planning on running away and starting over somewhere else. And I know the amount by heart. I look at the balance every time I make a deposit.

"Five thousand seven hundred and sixty-three dollars," I tell him. "And forty-nine cents."

He laughs.

"Don't forget the forty-nine cents."

"I won't." I smile.

"That's a lot of money."

"I know. I've been saving it ever since I started working two years ago."

"It's a lot, but it's not really enough."

"It is," I insist. "It's enough for me to get an apartment. It's enough to hold me over until I can get a new job somewhere else."

"What kind of job?"

"I can wait tables like I do now."

His hands slide down my back, easing the tension that has started building up.

"I thought you didn't want to wait tables anymore. I thought…I thought you wanted to go to college and do something better."

"I did," I tell him. "I…I do. But I can wait for that. I can save money again and go later."

"What about finishing high school?"

I hadn't really thought about that.

"Oh…well, I…I guess I could get my GED."

"You deserve better than that," he tells me. "I want you to have better than that. I want you to have everything we talked about. I want you to have the better life – any life that you choose. And I want to be a part of it."

I don't say anything – not for the longest time. My eyes are swimming with tears I don't want to cry, and my chest is constricted.

Before I can speak, he continues, "I was thinking about this tonight while we were at Alice's. I want to be with you. And I'm…I'm willing to try again with the whole college thing. You know, if I can do it with you. I want that," he whispers, turning on the bed to face me. "I do. But we…we can't have that if we do this. If we run away, I'm scared that we won't be able to have the life that you talked about."

"Why did you tell me you would come with me?" I ask, crying now.

"Because I would do or say _anything_ to make you happy," he tells me. "Even if it's the wrong thing. But I don't _want_ to be wrong anymore. I want to do the right thing. You _make_ me want to do the right thing."

"And what's the right thing?" I whisper.

He kisses me. It's the first time we've kissed since we've been alone inside this room. And it's deep and desperate just like our situation. And I never want it to stop.

But suddenly, it does.

I know what he's going to say before he ever says it. And a part of me – not so deep down – knows that he's right. I can't run away from home…from my problems…from Emmett and even my dad.

"We have to go back."

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ILY Marvar more than sweet boys with good advice.

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Thank you for reading!


	41. Chapter 41

July 2012

I step out of the shower and dry off, throwing on an old t-shirt. I walk into the bedroom, maneuvering my way around everything that's still in the middle of the floor. We just bought our second home. And while we wanted the extra space (and the nicer kitchen), moving will always suck. There are still boxes everywhere, even though Edward swears he unpacked all day. Yeah, I'm not sure I believe him. But the bed is made and it looks unbelievably wonderful and inviting.

I crawl in.

I don't even turn off the light.

I'm asleep before I know it.

I smell him before I feel him – all showered and clean. And then I feel his warm skin as he slides up against me, wrapping one arm around me. I've been awake since he got home.

"I know you're awake," he says softly.

"Yeah, well, I was asleep until you woke me up," I say, turning to face him. "Not all of us are principals and have the summer off. How's Ally?"

"Sleeping, I think."

"She must be tired from all the unpacking you got done."

I laugh, and he pulls me closer.

"I unpacked," he says. "She spent the day with Alice and Emmett until we had pizza tonight. Apparently, Billy got a new iPhone. She's extremely jealous."

"She's twelve," I tell him. "She'll get over it. Besides, the phone isn't really new. Alice gave him her old one."

Yes, we have a daughter. We named her after Alice. Her cousin, Billy, was named after Billy Corgan. We try not to mock his parents shamelessly. We don't really have to – Billy tells them all the time how "stupid and depressing" the Smashing Pumpkins' music is. It pisses Alice off.

I settle against his chest, breathing in deeply. Edward still smells amazing. But he's moved on from Drakkar Noir to something a little more age appropriate. And he no longer smells like smoke – well, most of the time. I know he sneaks them on occasion, but I don't mind as long as it's not every day. And as long as Ally never sees him.

Just as I'm about to fall back asleep, I hear him whisper, "Do you ever think about what would have happened if we'd really run away? If we'd actually gone through with it?"

I open my eyes wide and look up at him.

"What brought this on?"

"I was just…I don't know…thinking about it today."

"I don't know," I tell him, remembering that one night in the cheap motel.

I smile, thinking back on that night. I was so young…and stupid. But nothing really _felt_ stupid. Thank god, Edward had been uncharacteristically reasonable. Although, when I think about it, Edward was always more than anyone – including myself – ever expected.

We went back the next morning. I had a huge blow-up with Charlie, but eventually, all of us sat down together and talked things out. It wasn't easy. And for a long time, my relationship with my dad was very strained. It wasn't until I finished my undergrad and Edward and I were engaged, that he convinced me to make an effort.

But after Charlie conceded that he'd been in the wrong, the rest of my senior year had been relatively _normal_.

Edward hates when I use that word.

I tell him that when you lack normalcy, you crave it. I know on some level he's right. And I don't want Ally to grow up thinking that she needs to be anything other than who she is…and who she wants to be. That _normal_ is a state of mind – and it's okay to be a little different. But I also know that Edward and I work very hard to provide a stable and loving environment for her.

That is the most important thing to me.

Well, technically, the man in my arms and our daughter are the most important things.

They always have been.

"No, really," I say, "what made you think about this today?"

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe it was hanging out with Alice and Emmett tonight, or maybe it was unpacking and stirring up old memories. I was just…wondering."

"I'm not sure what would have happened. But I'm pretty sure we made the right choice. _And_…I was only seventeen, so you were right. Plus…just think about this. I was only five years older than Ally is right now." He stiffens in my arms and I laugh. I press a kiss against his neck and he groans a little. Heat spreads through me – sharp and intense. "It was very risky of you to be willing to run away with me while I so young."

"Well, I _was_ bad news," he murmurs, his voice husky.

"You were so _not_ bad news, Edward Cullen."

"Oh yeah?"

"You were the best news ever."

His hands slide down as he grabs my ass.

"No panties, Mrs. Cullen?"

"Mmmm…" I hum as his fingers trail lower. "Not tonight."

"Baby," he breathes, "you're so ready."

He's right. I always am. I lift my leg over his hip, and he touches me more, deeper, spreading me open with two fingers. And I hold onto him like he's the entire goddamn world. And I suppose that he is.

He always has been.

"Now?" he asks.

"Now."

"Fuck, Bella."

Our few clothes are discarded and Edward slides deep inside. It's quick and quiet. But there's this tension in his movements – the way he's holding on so tight and keeping me so close. I don't question it. I just enjoy it.

When we're finished, and my head is resting on his still pounding heart, I tell him, "I love you."

"You always say it first."

I smile against his skin.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"It better not be if I will help you unpack."

"No." He chuckles. "When did you really fall in love with me?"

"Too long ago to remember."

"No, really," he says, and I turn my face up to his. "When was it?"

"Seriously?"

He nods.

"Okay, but don't laugh," I tell him. "I think it was the first time I ever met you. When you…looked at me. And talked to me."

"That soon?"

"I was an easy target."

"Because I saw you?"

His words catch me off guard. I don't exactly know why, but there's this truth there that he couldn't possibly realize. Truth that I haven't thought about in so long.

"Yeah," I nod my head slowly. "Because you saw me. What about you? When did you know?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it was the first time I saw you?"

"No."

This makes him laugh.

"The night you snuck out for the first time and I took you to the cemetery."

"You fell in love with me in a cemetery, Edward? Nice."

Secretly, I'm smiling.

"I fell in love with you on a Saturday, Bella. You were walking down the street toward me and it was the first time you held my hand."

"See?" I say quietly. "This is why I always have to say it first. Because you _always_ say stuff like that."

"I love you, Bella."

"Good." I giggle. "Does that mean I can go to sleep?"

"Yeah, but can I ask you one more question?"

"Yeah?"

I yawn and settle against his chest.

"Do you know anyone named Veronica?"

I shake my head, silently telling him no, and he scratches my back softly, lulling me to sleep. The name lingers in my mind – but I'm too tired to figure out why.

In my dreams, I'm seventeen.

And everything is soft blue flannel, cigarettes and first kisses.

When I wake up the next morning, Edward is already gone, but he was wonderful and made me coffee. After I shower and dress, I sit down at the kitchen table. And that's when I see it – right on top of the paper. I recognize it immediately.

_Veronica._

This is why he asked.

_Snooping asshole._

I'm too surprised to be appropriately pissed, and I pick it up. God, I haven't seen it in forever. I'm pretty sure it's been shoved in a box since we moved in together in college.

I open it up…

_October 23, 1994_

_Dear Diary,_

_You should know that I don't consider you a diary at all. Diaries are for little girls with pink bedrooms and fluffy slippers and moms who tuck them into soft beds at night even if the little girl complains that she's too old to be tucked in. I don't have any of that. I barely even have a bedroom. And I certainly don't have a bedroom of my own_.

I don't stop reading.

I don't stop crying either.

I'm so far removed from the girl that I was, and somehow, still the same in so many ways.

And reading makes me grateful for all the love I have in my life.

I was so fucking lonely.

And so fucking hopeful all at the same time.

When I reach the end, I realize it was after that night – the night we ran away – that I stopped writing in her. And after being immersed in my own seventeen-year-old thoughts, I wonder why. When truthfully, I know – Edward.

I can't even be mad at him for reading. Almost every thought was of him, and he knows them all anyway. And if I'm being honest, I would have done the same exact thing.

And that's when I see it – perfect and bold and unmistakably him – Edward's handwriting.

_July 13, 2012_

_Dear Veronica,_

_She left you in a rather precarious place._

_Allow me to fill in the gaps and answer any questions you might have._

_Bella didn't wait to tell me that she loved me. She told me first. It was that night, actually, and it was one of the greatest moments of my life._

_It was probably the greatest, since all the other great moments were directly related to and dependent upon her love for me._

_The first time we had sex. (I only reference this here because she talked to you about it so often.)_

_The night she agreed to marry me._

_The afternoon she became my wife._

_The morning she gave birth to our daughter, Ally, after seventeen hours of labor._

_She's tough._

_She's always been tough._

_But you already know that, don't you?_

_She has a life now. A full life. And I hope that it's a happy one._

_She's important. _

_She's good at her job – editor in chief of our local paper. _

_She's a good friend._

_She's an amazing and forgiving daughter. She's helped me to be the same kind of son. _

_She's a great mom…an even better wife._

_Thank you for listening when she needed someone to talk to._

_Based on the date of her last entry, I'd like to think that I've done a pretty good job of taking over your role._

_Sincerely,_

_Edward Cullen_

_PS: I've seen her white cotton panties. I loved them. They were hot._

_PPS: She still takes long showers. I try to join her as often as possible._

_PPPS: She might have loved me first, but I will always love her most._

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Reviews are love.

Please leave me some.

I love Marvar more than…well, anything.

And ILY all, too!

I appreciate every single person who takes a moment out of their day to read my words. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you.


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